


Don't Listen To A Word I Say

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Community: paperlegends, Declarations Of Love, Episode: s05e12-13 The Diamond of the Day, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Language, F/M, Falling In Love, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Immortal Merlin, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Past Character Death, Post-Canon, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Unrequited Love, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 15:31:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 52,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 5x13 fic where Merlin can't let go of Arthur and convinced that Camelot need is greatest, Merlin accidentally brings him back using the Horn of Cathbad. However, once he's back, it's Arthur than can't move on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Listen To A Word I Say

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my first, and the last, [Paper Legends](http://paperlegends.livejournal.com).
> 
> I couldn't have possibly pulled it off without the help of Thursday (xthursdaynextx), my long standing, long suffering beta. She deserves all the awards. Also, even though she barely knows anything about the fic, I have to thank my friend Emma (weekendgothgirl) for listening to me rant, rave and cry about this fic. She was in equal parts responsible for keeping me on track and distracting me from it. I'd also like to thank my artist aaweth_edain for taking me on so late in the game even though they have more than enough work on their plate. Of course, none of this would be possible without the hard work of the_muppet, I don't know how they do it, I certainly couldn't. This fic was based off of [this KMM prompt](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/34275.html?thread=36277987#t36277987) (although there is no kinkiness to speak of in the fic, a first for me) and inspired heavily by the song [Little Talks](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghb6eDopW8I) by Of Monsters and Men. Without those two things, I wouldn't have made it this far.
> 
> Also a massive thank you to [Fic Rush](http://fic-rush.livejournal.com/), especially in the last 48 hours. Marathon writing wouldn't be the same without them!

 

**You're gone, gone, gone away,**  
**I watched you disappear.**  
**All that's left is the ghost of you.**

-x-

Merlin looked out over the courtyard. It was deserted, of course. Everyone had been called into the throne room as he and Percival had come through the gates. Everyone had swarmed, wanting to know the fate of their king, pleading that he would return. Percival had kept his head held high but Merlin couldn't, he stared down at the cobbles, letting the guards clear their path to the steps. Percival had called after him when he'd walked in the opposite direction, towards his chambers. He knew what was expected of him, they expected him to deliver the news, they wanted him to say he'd succeeded, that their king was being healed, he'd be back soon. But he couldn't say that. And he couldn't tell them the truth either, that he'd been too late, that he'd failed him.

He'd told Percival what had happened, he'd told him everything he could say out loud, barely anything really and that was it. He was done. He couldn't go through it all again, not even for Gwen. Especially not for Gwen. He'd failed her almost as much as he'd failed Arthur.

He hadn't wanted to come back at all, he couldn't bear the thought of facing them but Percival's sad, confused stare had made him. Once he learned of Gwaine's fate, of Percival's grief, he couldn't make him face the walk back alone.

So here he was, shut away in his room and staring out at the city he'd thought of as his home until three days previously. He wished he was back at the lake, waiting. Perhaps when all the sadness and confusion died down, he'd be able to leave and go back there, sit by the water's edge until Arthur returned.

"Merlin?" Gaius said, tapping so lightly on his door that the wood barely registered it.

Merlin didn't answer but he forced back his thoughts, determined not to be caught indulging in them.

"They have made an official announcement, Guinevere has been declared queen. I thought you should know."

Merlin considered saying something back, like he was pleased or that it was what Arthur would have wanted but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. He turned his gaze back out of the window, watching as the town streamed silently out of the citadel, dealing with the news that they'd lost their king.

-x-

Merlin pulled open his door, not sure what he'd find. He hadn't left his room since returning and by the number of sunrises he'd seen, that had to have been around three days ago. He was only relenting because his throat was so dry he felt like he would start coughing up sand if he went much longer without a glass of water.

He found a cup on the work table and blew in it, just in case it had been there for longer than it should have. He had hoped the jug of water would be fresh but when he drank it down, it was warm and stale.

"Guinevere was hoping to see you," Gaius said from behind his desk.

Merlin didn't jump, he had thought he was alone but it wasn't too much of a surprise that he wasn't.

"Does she," Merlin said, stating it rather than asking. He'd given up wondering what people must think of him, locked in his room and refusing to come out or speak to anyone.

"She knows about your magic," Gaius added but Merlin still didn't turn to face him.

"She was bound to work it out sooner or later," Merlin said. "I guess as I still have my head, she doesn't care."

"Of course she cares, she wants to _thank_ you, Merlin."

"For what? I didn't do anything," Merlin put the cup down, wishing he'd not bothered with it at all now.

"You don't really believe that," Gaius said, rising from his desk but not quickly enough. Merlin walked straight past him, not even glancing in his direction before slamming his door behind him.

-x-

"Merlin?" A voice and a gentle tapping came from the direction of his door.

He'd been asleep, he'd been dreaming, back in a time before all this and whoever was knocking on his door was responsible for making him remember that Arthur was gone and this was the reality he was stuck in. He pulled open the door, about to tell whoever it was to take a long walk off a short rampart but he stopped in his tracks.

"Gwen," he said, his annoyance disappearing like smoke. He hadn't seen her since before the battle, before he'd left for The Crystal Cave. He hadn't wanted to see her at all but there she was. He couldn’t slam the door in her face.

“Gaius said you wouldn’t come and see me,” Gwen said, her lips set in a smile even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So I thought I’d come to you.”

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have come, I don’t...” Merlin started, stopping when Gwen’s expression wavered, a flicker of hurt in her eyes. She thought he was rejecting her presence. “What I mean to say is, you shouldn’t be thanking me. Gaius told me you know now and I really am grateful that you’ve not sent me to the scaffold but I couldn’t save him, I don’t deserve anything more.”

“Merlin,” Gwen said, reaching out to him and settling for what she hoped was a reassuring pat on the arm when he didn’t move to accept an embrace. “You saved Arthur more times than I can even imagine. I will always be thankful for that.”

“But it still wasn’t enough,” Merlin said, pulling back further and wishing he’d had a clear enough head to keep quiet behind his door. He didn’t want to put Gwen through this. He didn’t want her to feel obliged to comfort him.

“Would anything have been _enough_ though? I know you Merlin, you’re blaming yourself for what happened but it wasn’t you that landed that blow. It was Mordred. Hate him, not yourself, please.” Gwen looked at him deploringly, like she used to when she told him not to let Arthur do anything too rash.

“I could have stopped him. I knew it would happen, I was warned. I should have stopped him.”

“And then what would you have done the next time? The time after that?” Gwen’s shoulders fell, the bearing that came with her new title slipping. “Everybody has to die, Merlin, sooner or later. It’s hard and it’s always too soon but there is nothing anyone can do to stop it.”

Merlin stared at her helplessly, nothing left to say. She was right; of course, nothing would have ever been enough, not even if Arthur had lived to be a hundred. It still would have been too soon.

“I’m sorry,” he said eventually, giving up any semblance of strength and letting Gwen hug him this time.

Gwen held him for a long time, letting herself fall apart as well, knowing that the only other person who could understand what she was going through was Merlin. It was hard to close off once they had let the dam break but eventually Merlin pulled away from her. He watched as she pulled the mask back over herself, the one she’d been wearing since Percival had approached the throne and guided him over to the table, sitting beside him.

“I can send somebody for food, if you’re hungry,” she offered. “Gaius mentioned you haven’t been eating.”

Merlin could feel himself blush, not sure if he was embarrassed by his behaviour or by the fact it seemed to have spread around court. He nodded nonetheless; to refuse now would just make him look even worse.

-x-

Gwen was long gone. The food had arrived, more food than Arthur had gotten most mealtimes but he couldn’t get the tension out of the air. Eventually Gwen had asked him to share what had happened between Camlann and Avalon. He barely told her anything. He didn’t want to tell her that Arthur had struggled with accepting his magic because Gwen seemed to have taken it so easily in stride. But he couldn’t share the good things said between them either, for reasons that he knew were completely selfish. That just left the cold hard facts. Merlin got the feeling that she had left without getting what she’d come for.

And now he was sat at the table on his own. Even though the seclusion of his room was calling him, he chose not to give in to it. He waited for Gaius to return, vaguely wondering if he’d had a real errand to run or if he’d made one up to make Gwen feel more comfortable. When he finally returned, he seemed surprised to see Merlin.

“Merlin?” Gaius said, leaving Merlin with the distinct feeling that he was trying to see if he would stay where he was or run back to his room again. He stayed fast.

“Gwen brought us a banquet,” Merlin said, ignoring the tension and gesturing at the leftover food. He’d been picking at it himself for nearly an hour but there was still more than enough to act as their dinner.

“So I see,” Gaius nodded, following Merlin’s lead and taking a seat at the table.

“She’ll make a good queen,” Merlin said, reaching for another piece of bread and tearing it apart rather than eating it.

“Yes, she will,” Gaius agreed, serving himself and then offering Merlin plate after plate to which he shook his head.

“It’s what Arthur would have wanted,” Merlin said, having thought it countless times already. It was out now, he had said it, he could draw a line under it, he could fall quiet for a while.

“Do you think it would help if you were to return to work?” Gaius asked, breaking the silence too soon.

Merlin looked up, his brow creasing for a moment before smoothing again. “Do I even have work to return to?” He laughed humourlessly, he couldn’t help it. “A manservant without a man to serve.”

“Believe it or not, Merlin, you were in fact my assistant first,” Gaius reminded him with a wry smile, trying to raise a smile out of him. It was a tried and tested ploy and sometimes it even worked but usually the only thing on his mind was the state of Arthur’s armour, the ache of his muscles or the fate of the kingdom. Arthur was dead and Merlin doubted he’d ever be able to shake that off.

“If you can use me then you may as well, it’s not like I’ll have anything to do otherwise,” he agreed finally, knowing he’d have had to return to normal sooner or later. Or an attempt at normal at least.

-x-

Gaius took him at his word and put him to use, giving him every little task he could think up. Merlin could see it for what it was; a distraction, a means to take his mind off everything and give it time to heal. He was in equal parts grateful and baffled because even while performing the most arduous tasks, his mind could only ever focus on one thing.

The first week or so, Gaius kept Merlin in their rooms, sorting through the books and helping brew all the tinctures and remedies. He had him sweep the floors in the morning and then wash them at night. Everything was dusted top to bottom and then done again before the dust even had time to settle. Eventually they both had to admit what was going unspoken.

“You can send me out, if you need herbs or anything delivered,” Merlin said, really saying he could cope with the prospect of facing another human being.

“That would be most helpful,” Gaius said, pausing in his work and smiling. “Thank you.”

It started small at first, early mornings and late nights, when most people were still in their houses. He was still being handled with care; he could feel it like there were hands actually on him. He hated it up until the moment he actually walked into Percival, not seeing him. Something that was a lot easier than it looked.

“Merlin?” Percival said, just as Merlin collided with him. He caught Merlin just before he fell, unable to save the half a dozen small bottles he’d been carrying.

“Sorry,” Merlin apologised awkwardly, not looking up but instead focusing all of his attention on retrieving the fallen bottles.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Percival said, bending to help Merlin and completely destroying his plan to not have to meet his eyes.

“Me neither.” Merlin glanced up at him, he had to or risk looking terribly rude. There was a lack of crimson cloak and mail which took Merlin by surprise given the late hour. “You’re not on duty?”

“I’m supposed to be meeting Leon,” Percival said with a shrug.

“Oh, of course.” Merlin scolded himself for thinking that everybody else had put their lives on hold like he had.

“I don’t really want to but...” Percival looked away and lowered his voice, his cheeks turning the palest pink. “I’ve not really got anybody else to talk to now.”

 _Fuck_ , Merlin cursed internally. How could he have forgotten? He lowered his eyes again, he couldn’t think of anything to say and even if he did try, he’d just call attention to Percival’s discomfort.

“You could come, if you wanted?” Percival offered changing the subject back.

Merlin started to refuse, a hundred excuses on the tip of his tongue but Percival spoke over them. “We’re going for a drink, if that sways you.”

Merlin thought about it, struggling up as Percival stood with ease. The noise of the tavern was something he didn’t feel ready for, nor the company but there was a certain lure to the prospect of drinking until he forgot his own name.

“I’ve got these to deliver but I’ll meet you there if Gaius doesn’t need me?” Merlin said, giving himself a way out should he change his mind along the way.

“I hope we’ll see you there then,” Percival said, nodding over to Leon further down the corridor before dropping his voice again. “He promised it’d be quiet.”

Merlin nodded and smiled, turning and trying his best to smile enthusiastically at Leon as well but he had a feeling it came across just as forced as it was. Percival placed a hand on his shoulder before he moved past him.

His mind turned over the idea, the upsides and downsides of it as he stopped at each door. He felt an odd sense of insecurity at the thought of being out, actually out, with people he knew. It had been three and a half weeks since he’d first shut himself in his room and this was not the first time since coming out of it that he wished he could bolt himself back behind that door. He knew he was being daft; he was bound to run into someone sooner or later. It was surprising it had taken him this long. But then if he were anybody else, he would have probably avoided himself as well.

His thoughts drifted to Gwen, up on the throne, unable to shut herself away. He hadn’t seen her since she’d come knocking on his door but he’d heard talk, second hand gossip that either supported her or doubted her. He’d asked Gaius a few nights back how she was handling the weight of the kingdom. Apparently she was doing _just fine_ and Merlin left it at that.

As the last door was closed on him and he was left empty handed, his feet seemed to make his decision for him, guiding him back to Gaius’ door. His mouth, however, surprised him when he was faced with speaking.

“I saw Percival, a few people are going for a drink, I said I’d go.”

“That’s good; you should go, have fun.” Gaius nodded. “I’ll keep you some dinner, in case you’re hungry.”

“Thank you.” Merlin turned, half closing the door before leaning back through it, regretting it already. “I don’t think I’ll be gone long.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Gaius said with a reassuring smile.

Merlin nodded, more to convince himself than anything else. He would be fine. It would be fine.

Each step made him more nervous but the cold hit of the night air cleared his head and breathing it in gave him courage. He made it all the way to the tavern door, stopping under the sign; the sun watching him as it supposedly rose. He took a breath and pushed the door open, the noise of happy people drinking quieter than it used to be, sober almost. Merlin belatedly remembered that not only had he lost his best friend, the man he was closest to, the one he’d spent years serving and protecting and hopelessly loving but that the kingdom had lost its king as well.

Leon stood when he saw Merlin edge in, causing the whole tavern to turn and look at him, nearly making him turn and dart back out again. But he kept his eyes on the table he was walking towards and pretended not to notice as the eyes inevitably turned back to their drinks when they realised he wasn’t anybody important.

“Merlin,” Leon greeted him when he arrived at the table and took a seat next to Percival.

“Sir Leon,” Merlin said back, lowering his eyes as he bowed his head. It had been years since the each of the knights had told him he didn’t have to revere them like in the old days. But old habits die hard and most of the knights he knew were gone now.

“I got you this, just in case,” Percival said, pushing a mug in his direction.

“Thanks,” Merlin said, accepting it and taking a gulp without even looking at it. It was mead, brewed way too sweet but thankfully that meant it was strong. He swallowed twice more before setting it back on the table, his nerves starting to settle.

The talk remained small for a long while and nobody seemed to mind that Merlin wasn’t weighing in on the discussion of the next morning’s drills or the weekly shift in guard duties. From what Merlin could gather, Leon had been made head of the knights, a position Merlin could testify that he had both earned and was well suited for. But it all sounded foreign to his ears because, as much as he tried to pretend it wasn’t, it was just wrong for anybody else to be assigning tasks to the knights.

“It’s too quiet without him, isn’t it?” Percival said in sad, hushed tones.

“Yes but then it’s to be expected. He was a good king, the people loved him,” Merlin said without thinking, assuming that it was a continuation of his own thoughts.

“I was talking about Gwaine but yes, Arthur too,” Percival agreed.

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Merlin said, realising Percival had hit the nail on the head, another reason why the tavern was unusually quiet. “It may never recover in here.”

“The trade in ale certainly won’t,” Percival said, trying to lighten the mood but Merlin could see the light of the surrounding candles shining in his eyes. Merlin averted his own eyes, taking another deep drink from his mug and resolving to make his excuses once he’d finished it.

“Sometimes I forget,” Percival continued, taking Merlin by surprise. Usually a dropped gaze was an invitation to back out of an emotional talk but Percival didn’t seem quite ready to let it go yet. Merlin couldn’t blame him, for some people sharing helped. Merlin couldn’t help it if he just wasn’t one of those people. But if he were the type, he’d admit that sometimes he forgot Arthur was gone, sometimes he’d be halfway ready to fetch his breakfast when he remembered.

“Hmm,” was what he said instead, giving Percival another chance to let it rest.

“I find myself thinking of things that he’d find funny or what he’d say,” Percival paused and Merlin watched him, certain this would be the end of it but it wasn’t. “Sometimes I talk to him, I just... forget.”

Merlin blinked, breathing in deep, wishing he had something comforting to say or that he could share his feelings about Gwaine’s death but he couldn’t because all he had was guilt. Guilt that he’d let his grief over Arthur eclipse every other thought. Luckily Percival gave him an out.

“Listen to me, going on. No doubt he’d find that hilarious.”

Merlin smiled as best he could and downed the last of his drink. He got up and made his excuses as soon as the conversation allowed and everyone wished him a good night. Percival even clasped his shoulder again, just for the briefest second. Merlin couldn’t blame him, he’d lost almost everyone else he’d called friend. Merlin did his best to smile again before leaving them to it.

One drink. Even he had to admit it was a pitiful shortcoming in his social skills but without Arthur, he just couldn’t make himself fit.

“You’re back early,” Gaius remarked, his eyebrow raised in surprise, when Merlin came through the door not even an hour after he’d left.

“It was all knight talk, thought I’d be better suited to a hot meal and an early night,” Merlin said, knowing that Gaius would see right through it and hoping that he wouldn’t push it.

“Well, you’re just in time then,” Gaius said, setting down another bowl opposite his own.

For the first time in weeks Merlin truly appreciated the quiet dinner and the comfort of Gaius’ company.

-x-

A little over two months passed with the same feel to them, quiet dinners and early nights. He’d bury himself in work during the day and if pushed, he would let himself be talked into going to the tavern. Some things did change; a new hierarchy of knights had formed where they’d lost so many, new faces joined the table and everyone began to laugh again, Leon took leadership in his stride and much to nobody’s surprise, so did Gwen.

Merlin couldn’t help but feel like he was being left behind in the ashes of an old era while the new one rose up and prospered. But he was not alone there, Percival seemed stuck too.

“Do you think we’ll ever be like that?” Percival said quietly, spotting a group of townspeople laughing as they made their way home after one too many drinks.

Merlin wondered if Percival took their moving on as a personal affront to the memory to their fallen friends. He couldn’t blame him, he felt very much that way himself. But there had been so fallen friends, asking the world to stop for them all seemed unthinkable.

“We can always pretend,” Merlin said finally, letting the curtain be pulled back for just a moment.

He left Percival at the steps, trusting that he could make it through the castle on his own. Merlin had somewhere else in mind. Something he was sure he had promised never to do again.

It was a bad idea; he acknowledged as he sat on the grass, his legs suffering from the same weakness that drinking had rendered his mind with. He shook his head, trying to make the words clear in his mind before they crept up his throat.

“Ω δρακον...” Merlin paused, not sure what to say.

He could say he needed the Dragon but he couldn’t claim there was any danger, he couldn’t even say he needed help. He just needed... something, to talk to someone who had known about Arthur, their destiny. All he needed to hear, again, was that this was how it was meant to be, that there was a greater purpose to his loss than just...loss.

“Δρακον...” Merlin called again, shouting now, slurring the word. He didn’t need to put his crisis of faith into words, the Dragon would come, he had to, he had been commanded.

Merlin leaned back, his palms on the grass keeping him upright, his head titled to the sky. He was aware of leaning back further, further, until he didn’t need to throw his head back anymore to see the stars. He was even aware of the stars dimming, like they were going out. But it wasn’t until he opened his eyes to the blinding light of the morning sun that he realised he had fallen asleep waiting and Kilgharrah had never come.

Merlin slammed the door as soon as he was through it, his delicate head resenting his bad mood.

“Have you been out all night?” Gaius asked looking up from his breakfast. Merlin could see his bedroom door open behind Gaius’ head, he was being humoured.

“Yes. And it was a bad, bad idea,” Merlin confirmed. Gaius would presume he’d been in the tavern all night, as Arthur had many times and just like with Arthur, he’d rather that was believed that the truth told.

He sat down at the table but waved away the bowl that Gaius threatened to put in front of him. Even the slightest thought of food was enough to make his stomach turn. Perhaps it wasn’t just Percival who had had too many, Merlin admitted to himself.

While Gaius cleared the table away, Merlin lost himself in thought. Specifically in thinking about Kilgharrah and why he hadn’t come. Was that it now? Was he not worthy of the guidance the Great Dragon had offered so many times before when it came to destiny? Did he even have a destiny without Arthur? Of course, a shadow lurked in the back of his mind. Kilgharrah had been sure that their last meeting would be their _last_. What if the dragon couldn’t come because... he couldn’t.

-x-

A few weeks passed, gnawing away at whatever was keeping Merlin going. He knew he’d be fine if he could just swallow whatever stubbornness was keeping him silent and get what was eating away at him off his chest.

His options were limited, of course, but the few people who did know about his magic were ones he couldn’t talk to. Gwen, he still found it difficult to face her, even more so when she went out of her way to be kind to him and he knew she would, she’d have nothing but kind words, she always did. The other person was Gaius and he was sure Gaius knew too much already, saw too much. He didn’t want to burden him anymore; he was already walking on eggshells pretending he was fine to keep Gaius from worrying.

So that left him with... nobody. Everybody else was dead, Merlin realised sadly. The scarce few who knew who he really was, Mordred, Morgana, had started out as his friends and died as his enemies. The few who had died as friends, Lancelot, Freya, they had known what he was but never quite got it, never understood it. None of them, friend or enemy had understood why he’d put Arthur on a pedestal but kept himself in the shadows. Kilgharrah who seemed to know everything, exactly how he felt, even when it confused him, well....Merlin had no real way of knowing but his heart told him that his kin had left this world as well.

So, there really was nobody. Not for the first time, it hit him how much he wished he’d shared with Arthur, before it was too late for all that.

Later in the day, completely sober, so he had no excuse for what he was about to ask, he sought Percival out. He found him training with the other knights. At first, he couldn't quite look at them but he found that if he wanted to catch Percival's eye, he had to. It got a little bit easier, the longer he looked. He found he was used to the glare of red and the shine of silver; it was hard not to be when every knight in the city still wore Arthur's colours. The Pendragon colours, Merlin reminded himself, they were Gwen's colours now. It wasn't what was there that was difficult to look at, it was what was missing. Who was missing.

Percival finally noticed Merlin and worked out that it was himself that Merlin wanted to speak to. He clapped his opponent on the back, almost sending him sprawling. They must be training the new ones, Merlin thought to himself. He'd always liked that time of year, when the new boys came of age; it meant that he wasn't automatically the worst on the field.

"Are you alright, Merlin?" Percival asked him when he was within shouting distance.

"I'm fine," Merlin said out of habit.

"If it's urgent, I can always..." He gestured over to Leon who was shouting drills in a tone that would have made Arthur proud.

Merlin looked at him for a moment. He looked like he was itching to get away. Perhaps being a knight just wasn't the same for him anymore. Merlin couldn't blame him but as much as he wanted to give him an excuse, he was no longer the King's servant; he had no reason to call knights out of practice.

"No, it's fine, not urgent," Merlin considered leaving it there but who knew when he'd next work up the courage to make a prat of himself again.

"Oh," Percival said, disheartened while Merlin paused.

"I was just thinking, for old times’ sake, that I could join the next expedition you all go out on. It might do me some good, getting out of Camelot."

"I'm not set to go on one any time soon. I asked not to because, well, it won't be the same, will it? But I can ask Leon if he'll add you to the next one," Percival looked out over the knights and Merlin could almost read his mind. None of them, save Leon, were his friends, his brothers.

Merlin felt the same; there wasn't one of them, again save Leon, who he could open up to. Really, that's what he was asking, for a night away from all the obligations of being fine. And so far, the only person who seemed to understand that was Percival.

"What about just you and me then?" Merlin asked, really hoping he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. Thankfully Percival smiled back at him, nodding.

"That would be great."

"Great!" Merlin echoed, allowing himself to properly smile.

"When were you thinking?" Percival asked, his mood completely changed. Happy even.

"As soon as possible? I just really want to get out of the city."

"Tonight?" Percival asked, taking Merlin by surprise. He'd thought he'd have longer to prepare than a few hours but then, he wasn't lying, he really did want to do this as soon as possible.

"Alright, tonight then," Merlin agreed.

They met in the courtyard an hour after drills, Percival with the horses and Merlin with enough supplies to feed half a dozen of them. He hadn't adapted to just packing for himself yet. Percival was already waiting for him when he was finally ready. Merlin wondered which one of them wanted out of Camelot more.

"Ready?" Percival asked after nearly five minutes of watching him pack up the horses.

Merlin nodded; satisfied they had everything they needed. Percival handed him one set of reins, taking the black work horse for himself and gifting Merlin with the lithe standard issue bay horse from the royal stables. On an official outing, Merlin wouldn't have dared to consider borrowing such a fine beast but obviously Percival was trying to be polite, to soften the widening gap in their social statuses.

Merlin's hands went to one of Percival's stirrups out of habit, balancing Percival's weight as he mounted. He slid his hand between the layers of cloth and leather, his fingers loosening the buckles on the girth, only to yank them up higher. Percival watched him curiously as he worked and he realised he'd probably crossed some line or other. The knights usually had trained stable hands to check their tack. It was only Arthur who was too impatient for all that and made him do it.

"Sorry, I know I'm not a stable boy but you know Arthur, you'd never catch him tightening a girth. You're welcome to check it yourself; I've probably been doing it wrong for years." Merlin lowered his eyes and stepped backwards.

"No, not at all. I was going to say _thank you_ ," Percival said, smiling reassuringly when Merlin looked up.

"Oh. You're welcome." Merlin paused, not quite sure what to do now. "Your stirrups?"

"Are fine, thank you, Merlin," Percival said, nodding over to Merlin's horse.

Merlin took the hint and mounted his own horse, leaning over himself so he could check his own girth and stirrups. One of the pitfalls of being what Arthur had dubbed _gangly_ was he always had to let his stirrups down at least two notches to stop his knees from being practically under his eyes. Percival waited, his face patient but his fingers fiddling with the reins.

When he was sure everything was in order, Merlin nodded over to Percival, letting him know he could take the lead. Percival nudged his horse lightly with his heels and much to Merlin's surprise, the animal moved instantly. Merlin's own horse took more persuasion, three firm kicks and a considerable amount of clicking his tongue, to be exact. When his horse finally did decide it wanted to walk, it had to take on a brisk pace to catch up with Percival's leisurely one.

"Bit stubborn, isn't she?" Percival said with a look of sympathy. "All the Royal horses are."

"Like their..." Merlin caught himself just in time and tried to think of something else to say.

No, he thought to himself, the whole point of this trip is to be real, to not constantly fake being fine. May as well start now.

"Sorry, I was going to say _just like Arthur_. I guess I forgot. I do that a lot," he said aloud, feeling both extremely pressured and like a great weight had been lifted. It was almost nice to feel tense about something he'd said rather than what he was stopping himself from saying.

"Don't worry about it, you're not the only one," Percival said, glancing across at him before changing the subject. "So, where are we headed?"

"Let's just see where we end up." Merlin gave his mare another kick and with the encouragement of the larger horse beside it, it moved into a steady trot.

Merlin had given a great deal of thought into where they should go. He'd considered going back to Ealdor for a visit, it had been a while since he'd seen his mother but even though Ealdor was outside of Camelot's borders, she had to have heard the news by now. He wasn't sure he could bear being mothered; it would probably be the last crack in the wall he had thrown up upon returning from Avalon. And if he did let himself go back to her, he wasn't sure he'd be able to leave again.

No, besides he wanted to go somewhere meaningful, somewhere that reminded him of Arthur. Anywhere would do, anywhere with memories. He knew if he let Percival lead, he'd take a common route out of habit and Merlin didn't doubt that they'd stumble upon one of their old camps sooner or later. A well timed yawn and Percival might never guess that he'd planned it all.

-x-

In the end they stopped for the night at one of their regular camp sites a good few miles north. Merlin could almost trick himself into thinking the embers left over from the last fire were still warm and that the rest of their friends, Arthur, Gwaine, Elyan, Lancelot, even Mordred, had only just left. But the embers were cold until Merlin set them alight again and there was nobody but him and Percival for at least a mile in every direction.

They passed a skin of wine back and forth until the fire grew enough to heat them properly. Merlin was thankful he’d brought it; he knew it’d loosen his tongue if nothing else. He thought up what he was going to say, staring into the fire as he had done so many times before when talking to Arthur. Firesides really did seem to be the best place for opening up.

“You said before... ages ago and we we’d been drinking so you probably don’t remember but you said you talk to Gwaine, when you miss him,” Merlin said, making the most the short lived courage the wine afforded him, tripping over words in an attempt to get them out faster.

“Sometimes,” Percival admitted. “He never talks back though which for Gwaine is saying something.”

Merlin smiled, he’d noticed what Percival did a while ago, he would make a joke after saying something about Gwaine. Merlin wondered if it was for Percival’s own benefit or his, to stop him shutting down and leaving. He only had himself to blame if that was the case.

“Does it help?” Merlin asked when a suitable silence had passed.

“I suppose,” Percival nodded. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Doesn’t it?” Merlin asked, surprised. Just thinking certain things seemed to hurt him, he couldn’t imagine saying any of it aloud.

“I know, I thought it would too but,” Percival picked up a nearby stick and poked the fire, not wanting to meet Merlin’s eyes in case it became awkward. “It’s easy. You feel stupid at first but it just becomes natural after a while.”

There was another silence for a while. Merlin wondered if that’s why he could bear to just sit with Percival, because they could both be quiet without feeling obligated to keep the conversation going.

“Do you want to talk to Arthur?” Percival asked, breaking the comfortable silence. “Is that why you’re asking?”

“No,” Merlin said without thinking it through. He regretted it the moment he dismissed it. “I don’t know. There’s just nobody else I can talk to.”

“You can talk to me,” Percival said and Merlin nodded.

“I am talking to you, believe me, this is as close as I can get to really talking.”

Percival nodded back at him, taking it for the hidden thanks it was. “What about Gaius?”

“Gaius knows too much. He knows me too well. I don’t even need to say anything and I can feel him worrying. I don’t want him to worry.”

“Her majesty then? Surely if anyone shares your pain, it’s Gwen.”

“She’ll only try to comfort me, tell me it’s not my fault,” Merlin said, admitting aloud for the first time that he was something less than grateful for Gwen’s forgiveness.

“But that’s not what you want to hear. You want her to blame you, hate you.” Percival said and for a moment Merlin thought he was asking questions, if only rhetorical ones but he wasn’t, he was just stating facts. Merlin nodded and Percival continued.

“When I first came back, most people were mourning Arthur and I can’t blame them, I don’t blame you either, even if that’s not what you want me to say.” Merlin looked up sharply but didn’t deny it. “But a few people who knew Gwaine, or knew me, they wouldn’t stop calling us heroes, saying how brave we had been. It wasn’t brave, it was rash. Gwaine always was too hot headed and I’d follow him to the gates of hell and back but... it was me that said it. I said I wanted nothing more than to know where she was so I could get hold of her and kill her, I’d kill her with my bare hands for what she’d done to us all and Gwaine... he listened to me and gave me what I’d asked for on a plate. Neither of us had enough sense to realise what fools we were, what an idiot I was and it got him killed. It wasn’t brave, it was for nothing.”

Merlin sat back, leaning on his elbows and taking a deep breath. That had to be the most he’d ever heard Percival say at once and he’d hit what Merlin felt within an inch. People could dress any death up as heroic, perhaps it helped them deal with it but if they had been there, if they’d ever felt the life leave somebody as they held them, they’d know it was _always_ for nothing.

“I was a sorcerer,” Merlin said finally, only half aware of what he was saying but needing to return Percival’s confession in some way. “I mean, I still am one but it doesn’t matter without Arthur. I was meant to stop what happened and I didn’t. I was too late. All of it, all the time I thought I could save him, that was for nothing too.”

“Did Arthur know?” Percival asked and Merlin had to commend him for not showing any sign that Merlin had just admitted to breaking Camelot’s most stringent laws, committing treason for lying to the king and not to mention, lying to him as well.

“About my magic? Yes.” Merlin thought about it and then shook his head, that wasn’t right. “No. Not until it was too late. I told him after Camlann. I knew it didn’t matter what I was then.”

“Did he know the rest?” Percival asked and Merlin looked away, up at the night sky. “Whatever it is that you can’t say to anybody else.”

“It’s getting late, I should set up our stuff,” Merlin said before following his own instruction and getting to his feet.

The camp was easy enough to set up, easier than usual now he’d told Percival about his magic. He could have probably gotten everything laid out and their dinner started before night fell but Percival had beaten him to it, taking it upon himself to start chopping vegetables ready for a broth, leaving Merlin unsure what to do with himself.

“I’ll fetch us some more water,” he suggested but Percival shook his head.

“We’ve got enough.”

“More wood for the fire then,” Merlin said even though the fire had more than enough wood on it already.

“Merlin, just sit? You don’t always have to be a servant.”

Merlin sat down and then realised he’d only done it because he had been told to, defeating the object. “I know, I just can’t... stop.”

Percival looked at him sideways, the knife poised over a carrot that was about to meet an unpleasant fate. “Just how long were you Arthur’s servant for?”

Merlin thought back, trying to remember coming to Camelot. It was so long ago now, so much had happened in between. He found he couldn’t put a number to it anymore.

“That long?” Percival said when Merlin didn’t answer. It was hard to even remember a time before all the knights sat around the round table; he’d forgotten Percival hadn’t always been there with them.

“It feels like forever,” Merlin admitted, wishing he had something to distract himself with.

“Did you always love him?” Percival asked, not just looking at him now but watching him, in a way that made Merlin feel naked.

“What? No, of course I...” Merlin felt his skin start to burn, hotter than the fire so he switched tactics and laughed nervously instead, trying to make it look like he found the idea so ridiculous that it was funny. Percival didn’t buy it.

“Its fine, it makes no difference to me. I just thought since we were talking...” Percival went back to the carrot and chopped it brutally, leaving Merlin feeling like he’d done something wrong.

“I don’t know how you know, I didn’t even tell Arthur _that_ but it doesn’t matter anyway, you know as well as anyone that he was perfectly happy with Gwen. My feelings, whatever they might have been, were irrelevant and I’d prefer they stayed that way.”

“Everyone could see it,” Percival said, pushing on despite Merlin’s clipped tone. “The way you looked at him, I don’t think even Her Majesty looked at him like that. Not in my presence at least. Arthur didn’t know what a good thing he had going.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes, their positions switched; now it was him watching Percival. There was something he wasn’t getting that niggled under the surface, just beneath Percival’s skin and Merlin knew that this wasn’t just about how he’d felt for Arthur.

“Gwaine?” he asked, really hoping he was getting the right message.

“Gwaine.”

“Did he know?” Merlin asked, his curiosity morbid given the circumstances but that hadn’t stopped Percival asking about Arthur.

“Do you think he would have ever let me live it down if he did?” Percival said but he smiled warmly nonetheless.

“Perhaps, he was a difficult one to predict,” Merlin mused and then realised that wasn’t what Percival wanted to hear. “He wouldn’t have laughed at you though. Arthur would have laughed at me, he already thought I was too much of a girl, he would have laughed me out of the kingdom if he’d ever known.”

“I don’t think he would have,” Percival dropped the chopped carrot into the water and set aside the serving tray he’d had balanced on his lap as a chopping board. “You were the only person he actually listened to. I know he said some things, I mean we all do, don’t we, rather than just being honest. But he really listened to you. He would have listened, at least.”

Merlin considered Percival’s words, it was true that on a few outstanding occasions, Arthur had asked his opinion and actually listened. And he knew firsthand how much easier it was to call Arthur a clotpole rather than admit he was actually right. But none of that meant that he should have admitted his feelings. There was a great difference between knowing such a love could never be returned and hearing it. Arthur had found it hard enough to call him a friend out loud, asking more of him would have been dangerous.

“I need some fresh air,” Merlin said, distracted by his thoughts. He got up and brushed himself off, not sure where he planned on going. He just needed a moment, if he was ever going to do this whole talking thing, now was that moment.

Percival nodded, giving the pot a stir and being good enough not to point out that they were surrounded by fresh air. “Don’t be too long, this’ll be ready soon.”

“I can always warm it,” Merlin said with a smile before turning and picking his way through the trees until he couldn’t see the fire anymore. When he finally dragged himself back, dinner was served.

-x-

Merlin rolled over, unable to sleep. It wasn’t the hard ground; he was more than used to that. It was frustration keeping him awake. He’d resolved to get everything off his chest on this trip and he had, a little more than he’d thought he ever would but there was still something missing. Ever since Percival had planted the idea of talking to Arthur in his head, he hadn’t been able to let it go.

But he just couldn’t do it. He had felt like an idiot, sitting out there in the cold and dark, away from the fire but unable to say a damn thing. No doubt if Arthur could see him now, he would be right to call him an idiot.

He had come back, angry at his failure and the rest of the evening had been uneventful. They’d kept talking but mostly about small things, things that passed the time.

Merlin glanced over at Percival sleeping peacefully a few feet away. Why could he do it and yet Merlin found it impossible. Every time he’d opened his mouth, he felt like a prat.

He got up, giving up trying to sleep. Perhaps if he walked around a bit he’d tire himself out. The woods were more treacherous in the dark but Merlin didn’t mind, he had fallen over enough roots in the daylight not to be bothered by them at night. And kicking the ground to find them provided an outlet for his frustration.

 _Why can’t you just be here?_ he thought to himself, kicking a branch out of his way. He bit his lip and took a shaky breath. It boiled right under the surface, like an argument just waiting to be had.

“Just be here!” He shouted, startling himself. He took another breath and held onto whatever was making him angry. “Just come back. Albion needs you. We all need you. _I fucking need you!_ ”

Merlin pressed his back to the nearest tree, suddenly as tired as he had wanted to be. He closed his eyes against the darkness and the tears burning in them. He hadn’t let himself cry since he’d left the lake, he wouldn’t cry now over something so ridiculous.

“I don’t know what to do now. There’s nothing...” He dug his nails into the bark of the tree. “It’s all meaningless without...” He couldn’t let himself break. “I’ve forgotten how to live without our stupid, inconvenient destiny getting in the way.”

The first tear fell and he wiped it away furiously but it was just replaced with another. “Why can’t you just come back now?!”

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, desperately trying to stop himself screaming into the quiet night but eventually he had nothing left and he was left silent. He let himself fall to the ground, to wait for morning to come and force him back through Camelot’s gates.

He glanced up at the sound of footfalls, Percival’s footfalls. He realised guiltily he must have woken him with all the noise. He could have brought a whole Saxon army upon them and not noticed. He waited to be berated but Percival just looked at him with a kind smile and the barest hint of sympathy, although he was trying not to let it show.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the fire,” Percival said, crouching down as best he could to try and put himself on Merlin’s level. Merlin nodded and let himself be pulled to his feet, Percival walking beside him; keeping a strong hand on his back should he fall.

By the time they got back to the camp, the fire had long since burned to nothing. Percival steered Merlin to sit down beside it regardless and set about finding flints to start a spark with. Merlin could feel himself being watched still, out of the corner of Percival’s eye. He’d been silent since Percival had found him but he knew he must look a mess, his eyes were starkly red against his otherwise white skin. He felt frozen. Cold and broken.

By the fifth strike of the flints, Percival looked ready to give up but something seemed to renew his resolve. He didn’t even seem to register Merlin’s hand reaching out over the ashes.

“Forbærnan.”

Percival glanced up at Merlin and then looked back down at the fire that had seemingly sprung up from nowhere.

“Thank you,” Percival said, putting down the stones and lying back on the ground where he’d been sleeping when Merlin had left him.

“I think I’m going to sit up for a bit,” Merlin said, still tired but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep just yet.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Percival asked him, leaning up to see Merlin’s response.

“No, I can’t.” Merlin shook his head. “I tried talking to him but it just felt even more like he’s gone.”

“What will you do now?” Percival asked, letting his head rest back on the ground.

“Nothing,” Merlin said, resigned to the fact there was nothing he could do. “I can’t ask the fates -whatever it is that decides our lives - I can’t ask them to bring him back just so that I can talk to him.”

“You can always visit, like he did with his father,” Percival said before stifling a yawn.

“What?” Merlin looked from the fire to Percival so quickly his neck hurt. “What did you say?”

“The horn thing, the scared Stones of Nameton, remember?” Percival yawned again, his eyes closing and then opening again. He was trying to stay awake for Merlin’s benefit, Merlin could tell. “You went with him, right, to see Uther.”

“Yes,” Merlin said quietly, remembering and cursing himself for not thinking of it sooner. “Of course, thank you, Percival.”

“Mmmhmm,” Percival murmured, nearly asleep. “Better now?”

“Yes, much better,” Merlin said, his eyes returning to the fire and manipulating it, turning it into that all too familiar crest. “Goodnight.”

-x-

Merlin woke early. He was surprised he’d been able to sleep at all and he was sure the he’d dreamed of what he was planning to do more than once. Arthur. He was going to see him. Speak to him. Just for a few short minutes. That would be enough. He just needed to see him.

Merlin didn’t think that Percival remembered just what he’d said when half asleep but he seemed pleased to see the spring back in Merlin’s step and he didn’t question what had brought it back. They rode full tilt back to Camelot, the morning chill refreshing as the wind whipped past them.

He didn’t say anything of his plans to anybody. He offered to return both his and Percival’s horse and do all the unpacking himself. When he got to the stables, he asked to loan out another horse and have the supplies swapped over. He had enough to last him a week, at least. Gaius would think him still out with Percival and he doubted anybody else would miss him for at least a few days. It was perfect really.

Getting the Horn of Cathbad was not as easy. He knew if he merely asked Gwen for the keys to the vaults, she’d let him have them but he couldn’t risk her asking what he wanted them for. He would have to lie to her and he already felt bad for keeping her in the dark about his plan. He couldn’t be the only one who wanted to see Arthur again.

He waited for a moment by the doors to the throne room, listening to see if she was holding an audience. Luckily for him, she was. It had been a safe bet; she had a much higher tolerance for sitting on that uncomfortable wooden chair than Arthur had.

He took the stairs two at a time, hoping that if he looked busy nobody would stop him. After all, he’d spent what felt like the better part of his life running around Camelot’s citadel.

He stopped outside Arthur’s door, realising that he hadn’t stepped foot inside it since the morning he’d told Arthur he wouldn’t be able to go with him to Camlann. The look of hurt had stung him more than Arthur’s words. Merlin closed his eyes, pushing those thoughts away, none of that mattered now.

He pushed open the door and stepped inside, startled by how little it had changed. He half expected Arthur’s shirts to be draped over the screen still and Arthur to be sat at his desk. But of course he found neither. Gwen’s red dress was hung over the screen and the room was empty except for him.

He walked around the table and around the bed, trying not to remember the many times he’d done this before, his heart pounding because Arthur would be asleep just inches away from where he was. But Arthur wasn’t in those sheets now and much to Merlin’s surprise, the bed had even been made. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one finding it difficult to let go of his vocational roots. Or perhaps Gwen just had a better servant.

The keys were still hung where they always had been, of a tiny hook on the dresser. Sliding them off and pocketing them was nothing at all. He took another lingering look around Arthur's, no _Gwen's_ room before leaving it as quietly as he had entered it.

He didn't bother rushing down the stairs this time, there were plenty of places he could pretend he was going if anyone asked but nobody did ask. He risked using magic to distract the guards, leading them in the opposite direction. His secret was as good as out anyway, did it even matter if he got caught now? In name's sake, perhaps but Gwen already knew and she hadn't taken his head off yet.

He fumbled with the lock despite having snuck through the same gate more times than he cared to admit. Finally he got it to release and he wrenched open the gate, its hinged screaming and its metal bottom dragging on the stone floor. He pulled it to, not locking it behind him like he used to. If he was caught then he was caught, he'd just try again when he was freed. Arthur wasn't exactly going anywhere. No, it was him that was in a rush, desperate to see him again.

It took longer than he hoped to find the Horn of Cathbad. Arthur himself had placed it in the vaults and Merlin suspected he'd hidden it deep to stave off the temptation. The very same temptation he was giving into. But then Arthur was not his father, he wouldn't turn vengeful; he was a better king than that. A better man than that.

Eventually he found it, locked in a box inside another box. The temptation must have been strong, even after everything, Merlin realised. He understood, he’d had a long list of people that he'd like to see again, everyone did, but out of respect for Arthur, he never asked. Then after what happened with Uther, it had been deemed too risky, too high a price to pay should it go wrong. Merlin wouldn’t even consider it for anyone else but for Arthur? It was worth the risk.

He stowed the Horn in his bag, just in case anyone should see him between the dark of the vaults and the bright sunshine of Camelot's courtyard. He locked the gate again and climbed the stairs, then more stairs to return the keys. This time he didn't look around the room before he left.

 _Can't look back, remember_ , Merlin said to himself as he closed the door, not looking back.

There was a stable boy waiting for him in the courtyard, holding the reins of a beautiful grey mare. The horse whickered when it saw Merlin and he stopped in his tracks, unnerved. It took him a moment to realise what had set him on edge, it was Morgana's old mare, the one Arthur had said she'd practically raised from a foal.

Yet the horse seemed to remember him fondly; she was straining at the bit to meet him. He reached out to her, setting aside his anxiety and stroking down her nose. Her mistress’s actions were not her fault and she had no way of knowing that the hand petting her was the same one that had held the blade that stopped her mistress’s heart.

"I'm fine from here, thank you." Merlin smiled and held out his hand for the reins.

The boy nodded and handed them to him with a bow. If not waiting on his friends wasn't hard enough to get his head round, he knew he'd never be comfortable being waited on himself.

He gave the mare one last pat and threaded the reins through his palm, mounting and checking his tack while his mind planned his route. Had he not been so keen to get there, he would have considered borrowing a map as well. He knew they were west, on the plains but for the rest he'd have to hope his memory didn't fail him.

-x-

It was a long ride, days longer than he remembered it being when he'd rode it with Arthur but then Arthur seemed to know all the paths in Albion by heart. It was part of being king, Merlin supposed. His provisions saw him through though and his determination kept him riding even when he was tired, cold, soaked through and sore. When the trees finally opened up onto the plain, he felt like kissing the ground, just to thank it for finally being under his horse's hooves.

He dug his heels into the mare, putting her into a canter for that last stretch but it still didn't feel like he could get there quick enough.

"That'll do," he told the mare, pulling the reins in tight until she came to a halt. He jumped off and searched for something to tie her to. Of course, on a plain there was nothing. He took a small dagger from the saddle. It was the only weapon he carried and it was more often used to prepare his dinner than to protect himself with. He coaxed the horse's head down, bribing her with a good share of his food. He took the slack reins and tied them as best he could around the dagger before shoving it into the ground as hard as he was able. If she decided to pull her head up then she would be free but he sensed she was happy enough where she was.

"Stay, please," he told her anyway for good measure.

When she didn't even look up, Merlin deemed it safe to trust her. He looked at the Stones of Nameton for a moment. He'd never been through them himself and Arthur had refused to say a word about his own experience. He was going in blind.

He grabbed the Horn from one of the bags and strengthened his resolve. He wasn't going in blind; he was going in after Arthur.

Merlin made his way to the centre of the circle. He could feel magic coming from the stones, pressing in like the beat of a drum. Colours seemed brighter. The sun seemed to shine only on these stones, shadows falling everywhere else. When he’d come with Arthur, he’d watched from the outside, hoping Arthur would turn back but he had forged ahead. And so Merlin didn’t look back, he kept walking, the Horn of Cathbad cold between his lips, the music flowing from it, calling to the other world, asking the veil to drop, just for him.

He wondered if he should say Arthur’s name or focus all of his thoughts on him. He’d never asked Arthur what he’d done to call his father forth. He hadn’t been there when Gaius had told him what to do. He hadn’t even known where they were going until they were looking upon the ground where he was stood now. Arthur had snuck out in secret just like he had done.

The white light came, the same as the light that had taken Arthur as he watched. He stepped into it until he couldn’t see anything else. The light blinded him and for a second he thought he would never see again but it faded, leaving him dazed, seeing shadows again. His vision cleared instantly when he realised what he was looking at.

Silver mail and metal plates, a red cloak so bright compared to the whitewash of everything else. It was him, just as he had been the last time Merlin saw him, down to the broken links in his mail and the copper stain of blood where Mordred’s sword had mortally wounded him.

“Arthur!” Merlin meant to hold back. He’d promised he’d be calm and pretend everything was fine, normal. But he couldn’t stop himself. Reason told him that Arthur wasn’t _really_ there but he ran to him anyway, surprising them both when he collided with so much cold, sharp metal and the body beneath it.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, strained. Merlin clung on tighter, taking in the impossible, things he’d never thought he’d hear or see or _feel_ again. Arthur’s voice, his breathing, his heart beating. Merlin was sure he could feel the blood rushing in his veins but it was all impossible because Arthur was dead. But he felt so alive.

“Merlin!” Arthur said again this time with more force. He’d barely taken a breath before it had been knocked from him and Merlin hadn’t given him a chance to take another.

“Sorry, I just...” Merlin pulled himself away reluctantly, looking him over instead, trying to take everything in and store it away. “Missed you,” he finished belatedly when he realised he was staring.

Merlin blinked, his mind bringing up a horrible idea. “You do know what’s going on, right? Do you remember what happened?”

“Yes, Merlin, getting stabbed with a sword isn’t easily forgotten,” Arthur said, smiling but not quite answering Merlin’s whole question. Merlin kept on staring at him, knowing they had to cross this bridge now. “I’m dead, I know. I’ve been here before, remember?”

“Yes, your father.” Merlin nodded and then let a silence grow between them. He didn’t think there wasn’t anything he could say that would make knowing he was dead any easier for Arthur.

Arthur was the one that wouldn’t let the silence linger, taking a deep breath, something Merlin still found unbelievable, he was breathing. “How long has it been?”

“Since...” Merlin cut himself off; of course that’s what he was referring to. “Months. Close to half a year perhaps. I don’t know. I couldn’t count.”

“That long?” Arthur asked.

“It’s been hard, believe me,” Merlin said without really thinking. He had so much he wanted to say but ordinary words just kept falling from his mouth like this was any other day.

Concern flicked through Arthur’s pale eyes. That was the only sign. He was so pale. “Really? Is everything alright? Camelot, Guinevere?”

Merlin smiled, he understood, he really did. They would always be Arthur’s first thoughts and that was fine. Arthur couldn’t help that anymore than Merlin could help his first thoughts; Arthur, destiny, magic, freedom, Albion. Although lately that list had dwindled dramatically down to one first thought.

“Camelot is fine. Gwen is a wonderful Queen, you’d be proud of her, really.” Merlin looked down, for somewhere caught in the in between, an interim between life and death, the ground seemed so solid. If only he could feel the same but he didn’t, he felt unsteady.

“Good,” Arthur followed Merlin’s gaze to the floor. “Everyone has moved on then?”

“Nobody’s moved on, Arthur. They’re just...moving on.” Merlin shrugged; sure he couldn’t make it sound worse if he tried. “It’s not the same. Without you, I mean, it’s not the same without you.”

“But it’s fine?” Arthur asked again, still sounding worried.

“Yes, everything is well,” Merlin smiled, it was an old smile he hadn’t had to use in a while. The one that placated Arthur.

Arthur looked around nervously. Merlin couldn’t blame him, this place didn’t have the best of associations for Arthur. “Then as much as I enjoy the break from nothing, I have to ask...what are we doing here?”

Merlin nearly laughed. Perhaps Arthur never would understand it. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to talk?”

“I’d believe you. You never did stop talking, did you?” Arthur gave his arm a nudge in an attempt to get him to smile but a look of confusion crossed his face instead.

“You heard that?” Merlin felt himself blush. He’d thought it was ridiculous at the time, when he thought nobody could hear him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea that Arthur had been listening.

“Heard what?” Arthur asked, the look of confusion spreading to him.

“What?” Merlin said, backtracking. “Nothing. No, it was nothing. It was silly and stupid and don’t even worry about it. You meant before, I never shut up before.”

“Yes and I see you’ve got the hang of it again,” Arthur smiled before sobering. “Do you know how long you’ve got? My father said something about getting trapped here if you were to stay too long.”

“I’ll risk it, just a little bit longer, please,” Merlin said, knowing how he sounded and finding it hard to care. He _needed_ longer. There were still things he _had_ to say.

“Calm down, I’m not sending you away. Not yet,” Arthur promised him, reaching out again, this time to make sure he was still there, still solid. “Just tell me if you feel yourself slipping. I couldn’t bear it if... I don’t want you to end up here too.”

“I will one day, you can’t stop that,” Merlin joked but Arthur didn’t let up. “I promise, I’ll go when the time comes.”

“Alright. Let’s talk then.” Arthur nodded. “What has happened in my absence?”

“Mostly the same things that happened when you were king. Bandits still roam, taxes are still higher than the people would like, the sun still rises in the East.”

“How considerate of it. Guinevere is coping, you say?” Arthur checked again. “The weight of the kingdom isn’t an easy thing to bear. I had hoped she wouldn’t have to bear it alone.”

“She’s doing just fine. Her heart is well suited to meet the people’s needs. There hasn’t been a single outright challenge to the throne. The kingdom loves her just like you did. Do. Sorry, I...”

“It’s fine, keep talking,” Arthur said with a wave of his hand, dismissing the misstep.

“Erm...” Merlin searched for another topic. “Leon has been put in charge of the knights. It’s not the same, of course, we lost so many that day and they just can’t be replaced. Percival feels the loss strongest. It’s been hard on him.”

“It has?” A shadow of realisation passed over Arthur’s face. “Who else did we lose?”

“Of course, you wouldn’t know.” Merlin took in a breath, bracing himself. He hated giving bad news, especially this kind of bad news. “Percival and Gwaine went after Morgana. She wanted to know where we were headed and they tricked her. But as you remember, she caught up with us anyway.” Merlin paused, not sure the best way to say it even though he was sure Arthur had guessed by now. “She tortured Gwaine for the information and he, he didn’t make it.”

“Anybody else?” Arthur asked, his voice rough. Merlin could see that it tore him up inside to think that Morgana had killed Gwaine to get to him. He’d lost too many people at her hand, friends, family, ever her herself in a way.

“Many were lost in the battle. I’m sorry but I can’t name them all,” Merlin admitted, feeling like a terrible person. So many had died but he’d only had grief enough for one.

“I don’t expect you to, that would be beyond even me,” Arthur assured him. “Did everyone get a proper burial?”

“I don’t know. I was with you for the most part.” Merlin cursed himself for not finding out. Arthur would have made sure every last one of them got a hero’s funeral.

A strange look crossed Arthur’s face and another apology was on the tip of Merlin’s tongue but that wasn’t it. “What...” Arthur cleared his throat and Merlin realised the look one usually reserved for the quiet before battle. It was fear. “What happened to me? To my body, I mean.”

“I took care of it, you...” Merlin cleared his throat too. He’d never thought he’d have to explain this to him. “It was complicated. You had to be sent away, to come back.” Merlin bit his lip, sure that wasn’t something he should have said.

“What do you mean _come back_?” Arthur asked.

“I’m not even sure I should be telling you this,” Merlin said, knowing he definitely shouldn’t but he’d resolved never to lie to Arthur again. “You remember I told you that you had a destiny. Well, we had a destiny, I guess but my part is done now. Yours isn’t. Albion will need you again, that’s why...” Merlin took a breath; he would not cry here, this was supposed to make it better. “That’s why I couldn’t save you. You were meant to die that day so you can return when Albion needs you.”

“You’re right, I don’t think that’s the kind of thing I should know,” Arthur swallowed. “Is it to do with your magic, what you told me?”

“It’s bigger than me. If it was my choice I would have said fuck Albion and the future and saved you instead.”

“Those are strong words; I don’t think I’ve ever heard their like from you. I wouldn’t have even thought you’d know what they mean...” Arthur stopped when he saw Merlin was serious. “What I mean to say is, that’s a very powerful statement. I’m sure if it came down to me and the future of Albion, you would...”

“I would choose you, without hesitation or regret.” Merlin cut him off. He’d spent so long fighting for their destiny, helping it come to pass. If he had known how it would end, he wasn’t so sure he would have. He wouldn’t have let Arthur die, of course but he wouldn’t have relied on his destiny for the answer either. He needed Arthur to know that. He wanted him to know he’d always put him first.

“You really meant it, didn’t you? All the things you said about me and you and this destiny of ours while I was busy being...what was your word for it? A clotpole?”

“Yes,” Merlin confirmed. “Yes, you were a clotpole but yes, I meant what I said.”

“I’m sorry about-” Arthur started but he was cut off again.

“Don’t,” Merlin said. “I know.”

“I mean it,” Arthur said again for good measure.

“I know.” Merlin nodded. “But you had every right to be angry with me. I knew how you felt about magic, how your father felt.”

“I wasn’t angry because you were a sorcerer,” Arthur said, shaking his head in a way that made Merlin wonder if he could have told him all along. “I was upset because you...” Arthur sighed, looking like it was a great effort to actually say what he wanted to say. “I was upset because you thought you couldn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

Merlin didn’t know how to respond. He understood why, of course, in Arthur’s eyes, the trust between them had been broken and that was worse than breaking any law. It all seemed so stupid now. Of course he’d trusted Arthur, with his life, more than he trusted anybody else in the world but...words couldn’t explain how he’d thought he was doing the right thing by keeping him in the dark. He couldn’t even explain it to himself anymore.

“Merlin?” Arthur said suddenly, noticing him flicker. Merlin could feel himself being pulled away.

“No,” he said helplessly, breaking his own promise about not crying. “I’m not finished yet. There’s still so much to say.”

“There always is.”

“I’ll come back. I’ll keep coming back, I promise,” Merlin reached out, he had to feel him one last time, remember what he felt like _real_.

“Merlin, don’t. You have to move on too,” Arthur said and took his hand from where it was on his arm. He squeezed it for a second, not letting go either, despite his words.

“But I can’t. I don’t know what to do without you, you don’t understand,” Merlin said, not talking about destinies and kingdoms anymore.

“I do and I’ll be here, if you _really_ need me but you have to try, please, for me if not yourself.” Arthur gave his hand another squeeze before letting it drop, feeling Merlin’s fingers fall through his.

“Arthur...” Merlin started but Arthur shook his head.

“Don’t look back,” Arthur said but his words were too late, Merlin was gone. He hadn’t looked back.

-x-

Merlin had closed his eyes against the white, against the tears, against everything. When he opened them, he realised he was on the ground, slumped against one of the scared stones. He didn’t know how long he’d been back. Hours could have passed or just moments. He was still crying. He couldn’t seem to stop.

He felt like he had lost Arthur all over again. It had been so real. He’d wanted to stay, even if it meant dying himself. The world didn’t need him now that he had completed his destiny. He had wanted to stay with Arthur, where he belonged. But the world hadn’t agreed and he had been evicted from the other side against his will. He tried blowing the horn again but nothing happened. Perhaps only one chance was given.

He stood, suddenly weary of the world. More than he had been before. He’d thought talking to Arthur would be a comfort but it just hurt more.

“Come on, girl,” he muttered to the mare when he reached her. He pulled the dagger from the ground and gathered up the reins, mounting her and turning both of them away from the Stones of Nemeton. He didn’t look back.

-x-

His trip had taken longer than he’d intended and his plan to have it go unnoticed had been far from successful. He had his suspicions as he walked Morgana’s old mare back through the city, back to the stables. The lingering stares got worse as he made his way back through the citadel and he could swear that even the guards were whispering. He hadn’t felt so many eyes on him since that day.

At first he thought they knew what he had done, where he’d been but he’d told no-one of his intentions. They couldn’t know. It was only when he reached the main stairs, opposite the throne room and a guard actually stopped him, that it finally clicked. They knew he was a sorcerer. They all knew.

“Her majesty has been informed of your return. She requests to see you at your earliest convenience.”

“It’s late and I’ve been riding for days. Will it not keep until the morning?” Merlin asked, not quite used to being summoned by anybody other than Arthur. Certainly not by anything other than an impatient shout of his name. “Surely she has retired herself by now,” he added, trying to make it sound less like he didn’t want to see her. Even though he really didn’t.

“Even so. She requested an audience upon your return, no matter the hour.”

Merlin nodded; there would be no getting out of it. If he didn’t go, Gwen would know that he was avoiding her. It would upset her, he knew.

“I’ll come back,” Merlin said, looking down at himself. “I’m in no state to be brought in front of the queen.”

The guard nodded back at him and Merlin deemed it safe enough to walk away. He didn’t think Gwen would have him brought to her against his will but he wasn’t entirely sure what he would face when he did go to her.

Perhaps too many people knew of his magic now and she had to act on it. Perhaps they’d thought he’d run off and picked up Morgana’s fallen cause. Perhaps there was a threat on the city and they thought him a traitor. He couldn’t blame her, those were all the thoughts people had when they heard the word _sorcerer_.

He’d hoped that he’d find Gaius in their rooms before he faced Gwen, even a few words to explain what he was walking into. Or if he should be running in the other direction, holding onto his neck for dear life. He wouldn’t run though. It would almost be a relief to finally face the insufferable law of Camelot. Just to have all this secrecy over and done with. That was the true evil, secrets, not magic.

But Gaius was nowhere to be seen and he was left in the dark. He poured some water into a bowl, not knowing if this would be last chance he would get to bathe. The water was tepid and it felt worse on his skin than the dirt had. He dropped the cloth back in the water and pulled his shirt back on. He didn’t know why he’d bothered, he’d be in the cells soon enough. He took one last look around, glad that he could at least have that and that Gwen hadn’t had him arrested in the streets. He’d thank her for that, and for everything, if he got a chance.

The walk seemed longer than it had ever before, even though his mind told him he’d walked these steps countless times before. He did not presume upon visiting Gwen in her chamber, that would be inappropriate. Had it been Arthur, it wouldn’t have mattered where these words were said but Gwen was a new ruler and despite what he’d said to Arthur in the interim, she wasn’t entirely unopposed. There were still whispers about her inheritance, her lack of issue, her sex. He didn’t want to risk her crown by seeking a private audience and causing a scandal.

The guard was still waiting on the door to the throne room and he informed Merlin that Gwen was waiting on him. For the first time ever, Merlin waited behind the doors as they were opened for him and to his surprise, he was officially announced.

Merlin stepped into the room hesitantly and found it less empty than he would have hoped. It wasn’t quite dark yet and Merlin knew the draw of a scandal was appealing to the small folk. It hurt him most that Gaius was by the queen’s side and a whole line of crimson cloaks were stood behind the throne. Even Leon and Percival.

Merlin understood, of course. It was their place to be by her side and Gwen had always kept close council with Gaius, just as Arthur and Uther had done before her. They were all just doing their jobs, like Gwen was doing her job, Merlin told himself but it still hurt.

He looked around when he came to a stop in front of the throne, where people usually stopped when pleading for their lives. He glanced around again and got a few nervous smiles from people in the room that he called friends. The people he’d miss.

“Merlin,” Gwen said as she stood, a nervous smile on her lips too. “I would ask you to come and kneel, if you would.”

Merlin did as she said, kneeling at her feet. He didn’t dare look up again. He knew his place and this was it.

“While I could knight you for all that you’ve done for our kingdom, all that you did for our late king, I suspect you would not enjoy being a knight,” Gwen started and Merlin looked up, confused. There was a warm smile on her face now. “So instead, I shall dub thee official court sorcerer, to aid me in the understanding of the plight of the old religion and to assist me in dissolving all laws that formerly restricted the practice of natural magic amongst the law abiding citizens of my kingdom.”

Merlin looked around, more people were smiling. Percival looked fit to burst into applause but Merlin could help but feel... nothing.

“With your title shall come a rightful place on the council and by my side, furnished chambers fit for your status and a full crown bursary to use as you see fit and to pay for any expenses. Please rise, Merlin, Court Sorcerer and take your rightful place.” Gwen gestured to the empty throne beside her.

Although the two were identical and of late, only one had been in use, he was sure it had been Arthur’s throne. He wanted to refuse it, to ask to fade back into obscurity but he didn’t dare make a scene. It would not do to refuse her and cause her such public embarrassment. He took the seat although it felt like a dagger in his gut to do so, twisted with every clap of the people, every smile from a friend. Nothing felt real. It was some dream, a nightmare that he would awaken from. He was sure of it.

He sat in a daze while Gwen made a few more speeches, addressing the public in the matter of magic. She implored anyone who lived in secret within her borders to fear punishment no longer. She wished people within Camelot’s walls who had the gift of sorcery would step forward and consider helping her in her quest for equality. She even offered amnesty to all those previously accused and living as fugitives. Her closing address hit him hard and made him see that this was in fact very real.

“I know this change is dramatic and it will be difficult to adjust to. My husband spent his whole reign trying to adjust to it. He wanted to lift these laws himself, he longed for the day when he would have peace amongst all people in his kingdom but he had disadvantages beyond his control that stayed his hand. His father, King Uther, was misguided in his wrath and could never separate sorcery from treason, something that Morgana furthered with her quest for vengeance. During Arthur’s reign, Morgana misused magic and the people that bore it but it was never magic that was the offense; it was the treason that fuelled it. I know that had Morgana been defeated in Arthur’s lifetime, he would be saying these words himself. But she is dead and forgive me but as is Uther Pendragon. I sincerely hope that the paranoia and hostility between the crown and the old religion can be laid to rest with them. Treason is the crime, not sorcery.”

She looked around, seemingly staring directly into everyone’s hearts, even Merlin’s own. It was a dangerous move; he knew she was aware of that. For some reason she was laying her head on the block instead, risking her place on the throne for his people. She smoothed down her dress and cleared her throat, bringing Leon to her side to take her arm.

“Thank you for your patience, I shall bid you all goodnight now.” She looked back at Merlin, gesturing with her eyebrows that he should follow her, which he did like a man half asleep. The world had been turned on its head and he felt like he’d fallen all the way from the sky.

Leon escorted them both to her chamber and bid them goodnight at the door. He would stand guard, Merlin was sure of it. Usually following a lady to her bedchamber once the sun had set was outrage enough but Merlin suspected the townspeople had enough to talk about for a while.

Gwen shut the door behind him and sat down at Arthur’s table, her table now. She gestured for Merlin to sit as well.

“I hope that didn’t embarrass you. I hadn’t realised it would be quite so public.” She bit her lip and a little of the old Gwen resurfaced.

Merlin considered his answer. He hadn’t even thought to be embarrassed. It was all too... wrong. He’d been told all his life that he would never be accepted for who he was; he would always have to hide. And not only had he been accepted, they seemed to think it was a good thing. They seemed to think he was something special now. Nobody had so much as taken a breath when Gwen declared to the room that he was a sorcerer.

“Why weren’t they surprised?” Merlin asked, a sharp tone to his voice that he usually wouldn’t have dared use in front of her.

“When it turned out that Sir Percival returned and you were nowhere to be found, I asked him where you’d gone and if you seemed unhappy in your life here,” Gwen answered, choosing her words a little too carefully for Merlin’s liking.

“And he told you everything?” Merlin thought back to that night. He’d told Percival about his magic but Gwen had known that. He’d also admitted his feelings for Arthur and made a fool of himself by breaking down in the middle of the night, screaming for a dead man. He hated the idea of anybody else knowing that.

“All he said was that you were struggling. You didn’t know what to do now you can’t serve Arthur.”

“This wasn’t what I meant. I wasn’t asking for special treatment,” Merlin sighed, it seemed he’d never be able to speak again without it being turned into something he didn’t say.

“No, I didn’t say you did. And this isn’t special treatment, Merlin. I meant what I said; I want to break down these barriers that still exist between the people. I think you’re the best person to advise me in that aspect.”

“I could have advised you without you...” Merlin took a breath. He’d nearly accused her of making a spectacle of him. “I advised Arthur from the shadows for years. All you would have had to do was ask and I would always answer you honestly. You didn’t need to buy my service with titles and new rooms and gold. I thought you’d understand that.”

“Because I used to be a servant like you were?” Gwen shook her head but Merlin still counted himself lucky; had she been Arthur, he would have been hit round the head by now, he was sure.

“Because we were friends,” Merlin corrected her. It always disappointed him when people forgot that he was first and foremost their friend, before anything else. Even if they didn’t see it that way anymore.

“That’s why I did it. Merlin, you forget that I was there all those years. I remember _everything_ you did for Arthur. And that’s not including all the things you kept hidden from him and from everyone.” Gwen sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I wanted to give you the recognition that Arthur couldn’t give you because he didn’t _know_. I thought you’d want this, a chance to be an ambassador for the change you always wanted Arthur to make.”

“He did know. In the end,” Merlin said, he knew he didn’t have the right be angry, he had been the one to keep Arthur’s last moments from her but something, something just didn’t sit right with him and he had to say something. “Arthur said _thank you_ and that is all the recognition I will ever need. You didn’t answer my question, how did they know?”

“I made an unofficial announcement to the Round Table the night you couldn’t be found. When I sent out search parties, word started to get around,” Gwen looked down at the table, the stress starting to show. “I’m sorry, Merlin, if this wasn’t what you wanted.”

He got up, not wanting to say anything else. He’d probably regret what he had said later but more was lingering under the surface, just waiting to be spoken. And those were things that shouldn’t be spoken ever.

-x-

Merlin stayed sat at the table despite the fact that he hadn’t actually eaten anything. Gaius had tried to talk to him several times but even small talk seemed too much for him. Something inside him was waiting for the instance he opened his mouth, ready to scream. He didn’t want to be thanked. Not by Gwen. Not by Gaius. Not by the knights. And certainly not by Arthur. He had failed. How could they thank him for that?

He wanted to go back to Arthur, ride straight back to those stones and sit amongst them until they let him have what he needed. Another audience with Arthur.

He didn’t return the Horn of Cathbad. He kept it, placing it in a chest with the book of spells and the staff that lived under his bed for so long. He wondered if he would ever need to pretend to be old again. Why was he even hiding these things still?

He turned in a circle, magic working its way around the room like it was free to do as it will. It felt so wrong. He felt exposed. The spells packed up his stuff until the room was bare. Gaius had told him that Percival had offered to help him move his stuff in the morning. He’d also told him he could take any room he wanted, presuming it wasn’t already in use. He knew which room he would take. If he couldn’t use a humble life and a hard bed as penance, then he would easily find another way to make sure he remembered all his failings.

-x-

Everything changed in the morning. The light of the sun made it seem less like a nightmare and all too real again although he still had moments where he wished he’d just wake up. He’d not said a word to Gaius or Percival as he’d dragged his things from his room, other than to announce that he didn’t need a tour of the castle’s free rooms, he knew which one he’d take.

He carried some of his own stuff, several bags and one of the smaller chests while Percival shouldered the rest, making several trips up and down the stairs while Merlin looked around the room. It had been stripped bare long ago of anything that could remind them of her. But the furniture was the same, the bed still there, even her dresser although Merlin would ask for it to be replaced with a desk or a table instead. The only rooms that would have felt more haunted would have been Arthur’s ones.

Percival closed the doors behind him when he set down the last of Merlin’s belongings. He seemed to sense Merlin’s thoughts or perhaps he being less subtle than he thought with this act of masochism.

“I didn’t know Morgana before she...” Percival trailed off, leaving the worst unsaid. “But I understand that you were all friends.”

“Yes, we were,” Merlin agreed even though it had seemed so long ago. He had to really try in order to remember her as the fierce woman who would laugh in the face of danger but was so scared of herself rather than the one who laughed in his face, scared the people of Camelot and spelt danger.

“Is this a good idea then?” Percival asked, his words harder than their usual soft spoken tone. “You’ll just be torturing yourself.”

“Like you are by going out there every day, wearing that cloak and listening to them romanticise honour and glory?”

“That’s different; I swore an oath to Arthur, to protect him, his people, his kingdom.” Percival looked down, Merlin’s words obviously hitting a nerve.

“So did I but Arthur’s dead.” Merlin sighed, knowing this was all anger at his situation, not at Percival but he couldn’t stop himself from pushing him away. “You being a carved wooden soldier and me doing magic tricks for everyone isn’t going to change that.”

“Gwen was only trying to help,” Percival said and Merlin marked the lack of title. It wasn’t often Percival forgot his formalities. “I told her you needed something in your life that wasn’t about Arthur and the destiny you told me about.”

“But this was the destiny I told you about,” Merlin said, finally snapping and realising what it was that was clawing away at him. “It was meant to be me and Arthur that brought magic back to Camelot. Arthur was meant to be the one that brought peace to the land. Arthur was meant to be the greatest king the land would ever have, not...” Merlin stopped himself just in time. He was shaking from letting so much out and then pulling it back in again. He couldn’t say it, no matter how upset he was. It would be treason.

“Not Gwen?” Percival finished for him and the air felt twice as still as it had been when he’d thought the room haunted. “Would you rather Camelot never knew peace? And that people like you never know freedom?”

“No, that’s not what I said,” Merlin protested but he knew on some level, that was what he felt. He’d wanted it all or nothing, just for a second. “I just wanted it to be him.”

“He’s gone, Merlin,” Percival said and Merlin sighed, the fight gone from him. “We have to settle with what we’ve still got. Wooden soldiers and magic tricks. A Knight of the Round Table and the Court Sorcerer. It’s something and that’s better than nothing.”

“I know,” Merlin admitted, sitting down on the bed. It hadn’t been made yet, there weren’t even sheets and he could feel the feathers and rushes in the mattress. It was harder than he had expected. “I know.”

-x-

It took a while to get used to the eyes that followed him. It took even longer to get used to people treating him with respect and not just because Arthur commanded it. On his first day of service, he’d dragged his new seat back several inches, just to make it clear he had no intention of taking Arthur’s place. As if he could ever. He’d often idly dreamed of being on one of those thrones but not the way it had turned out. It was like the fates enjoyed turning every dream of his into ruins.

It took a long time for the people of Camelot to adjust, just like it did him. As the days turned into weeks more and more citizens came out of the woodwork, names Merlin recognised from lists, lists of the suspected in Uther’s time, watch lists. Merlin could only be thankful that their oppression hadn’t made them lose their love for the king. The queen now.

After a while Camelot stilled. There were a few incidents here and there, a few prejudices still lingering but on the whole, Camelot welcomed magic back just like the world had promised him it would.

The outlying villages and druid camps were harder, Merlin was sent out to them personally and he never knew what to say. _You’re all free now_ seemed only to make them more reluctant to break their chains. _Magic is free now_ drew attention to the fact he’d help keep it chained for so long. He envied Arthur, always able to win people over with a smile and a few words. He couldn’t seem to say the right thing. If he introduced himself as Merlin, in service of the Queen of Camelot, they didn’t pay him any heed. If he said he was Emrys, they fell to their knees and didn’t hear a word he said because they were too busy professing their love, their loyalty. If he brought a knight with him, they denied everything, thinking it was a test or a trick.

No matter how hard he tried he could not wave his hand and have magic accepted again. Only time and word of mouth could do that, all he could do was hope he was helping it along. His life became habit again, only now he wasn’t hiding it. His magic worked alongside Gaius’ remedies to heal the sick and the wounded. He would sometimes be called upon to accompany the knights on marches, especially if there was high risk of attack. The first time he’d been needed, he’d nearly lost them the battle because every knight had turned to watch him fight. He even advised the Queen, although she was much more receptive of his advice than Arthur had ever been.

But it was wrong still, he didn’t like the way people looked at him, the way they revered him. He missed his old life. He missed being called an idiot and punched on the arm like it was a good thing. He missed his cramped room and his hard bed. He missed having secrets to keep, a destiny to follow and chainmail to clean. He missed so many things, all of them winding back to Arthur.

He was spread out on his bed, still clothed, not quite tired enough to go to sleep yet. Alright, he didn’t miss the hard bed but the rest...

“It’s still all about you, you know,” he informed the canopy above his bed. “No wonder you were so big headed, everything was always about you.”

Merlin closed his eyes. This wasn’t the first time he’d let his thoughts slip out when he was alone. There was something about this room; it had the same stone walls, the same wooden doors, the same stained windows. Gwen had even donated Arthur’s old desk to him claiming she preferred the big table in the centre of the room. It wasn’t quite the same but sometimes, if he didn’t look to closely, he could pretend. If he looked the other way, he could pretend Arthur was still at that desk.

“And like always, you’re not even listening to me so I guess I’ll just keep talking,” Merlin continued. “I’m trying, you know. To move on, like you want me to. I don’t think I have a choice between being Merlin _the healer_ and Merlin _the secret weapon_ and Merlin _the builder of bridges_. Gwen works me harder than you did. Actually no, I don’t think that’s possible.”

Merlin laughed nervously into the silence of the room and then pulled a face; perhaps he’d finally lost it this time. Perhaps he’d lost it a long time ago and he could only just feel what was gone now. Whatever it was ached inside him like a gaping wound. It burned his stomach and his throat and his eyes.

“I don’t know if I can finish building your kingdom on my own. You could have done it without me, I always knew you could but I can’t do it without you. I’m not a leader, Arthur, I’m not you.” He sighed, blaming stress and exhaustion for his voice shaking but he knew that wasn’t the truth. He wasn’t even that tired.

“I don’t know how you did it. I really don’t.” Merlin closed his eyes and cut the conversation short. He would talk to Arthur, or more accurately himself, all night if he didn’t stop now. “Goodnight, prat.”

-x-

Camelot and the outlying lands settled down after a while but the other kingdoms did not. Every peace treaty had been broken outright or subtly dismissed for a variety of reasons. Merlin knew the real reason though. Most of the peace treaties had been made by Uther or Arthur using magic as a common enemy and now that they had legalised magic, they were the enemy.

Gwen tried to treat with them again, tried to offer new promises and compromises but she couldn’t win them over. Her right to reign was too weak in the eyes of most kings and this sudden change regarding magic, most seemed to think that was how she planned to keep her throne. Merlin tried not to hear it but the talks of war became impossible to hide from and the talk stopped being just talk.

Leon was pulling the knights in, keeping them close to the city on Gwen’s command, the stores were stocked to bursting and the armoury was better equipped than it had been in years. Every ambassador that came into the city looked like a hungry wolf scenting blood, smirking as Gwen tried to keep herself calm and collected. Merlin tried to help as much as he could but the only wars he’d fought had been ones alongside Arthur and it had been Arthur who’d known all the battle strategies and tactics. All he had done was protect him the best he could. It was Arthur they needed.

Merlin left the horse behind this time; he didn't want to draw attention to his departure. The town itself was quiet enough but these were dangerous times. If he tried to get a horse, Gwen would only insist that he took a guard with him and he wasn't ready to admit where he was going. He didn't even want to admit it to himself. He'd promised Arthur that he'd try and he had tried but he knew Arthur would have expected him to keep trying, to try harder.

It wasn't himself he was doing this for, he reminded himself as he slipped unnoticed through the city gates. He was doing this for Arthur's kingdom, the one he'd managed to put in danger in little less than half a year. He wasn't going for himself, not this time. Arthur would understand that.

The walk was long and hard but made slightly easier because this time, he knew the way. Without a horse to keep him company, he planned what he was going to say, changing it over and over again, speaking aloud more often than not.

He didn't hesitate this time. He didn't think about what to do. He just took the Horn of Cathbad and blew it. He closed his eyes, feeling the white light take him rather than walking into it. Arthur was there waiting when he opened his eyes.

"Mer-" Arthur started but Merlin shook his head, silencing him. He didn’t know what Arthur had planned to say but whatever it was would have no doubt made it harder for him to confess what he needed to.

"Don't, please," Merlin asked, readying his speech. "I know you said not to come but I don't come for myself, I come for you people, your kingdom."

"What happened?" Arthur asked, stepping towards him, that urgency still there. Even with the kingdom under threat, he couldn't muster a feeling like that. That's why they needed Arthur.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Merlin said, the planned words forgotten. "It was supposed to be you. Me and Gwen, we tried anyway. She wanted to try and I wanted to try for you. Not for myself but because it was meant to be golden, this kingdom and it was meant to be _yours_."

"Merlin, what are you talking about?" Arthur asked, his urgency fading into confusion.

"We freed magic.” Merlin explained. “Gwen, she lifted the laws banning innocent magic use but it's all gone wrong, the other kingdoms won't accept it. All the treaties have been broken, Camelot is alone and if there’s war-"

"Shh," Arthur cut him off. He'd heard enough to understand what had happened and Merlin was working himself into a state explaining it. He placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder and didn't protest when he ended up with Merlin's face pressed into his chainmail. He didn't say anything as Merlin broke, enveloped in his arms.

"This isn’t your fault," Arthur said, hoping to calm him. "What was Guinevere thinking?"

Merlin froze, sealing over all the cracks in an instant. He looked up, just to make sure he'd heard right. "What?"

"I know why you did it, they are your people and I know you had to suffer in silence for all this destiny lark but whatever possessed Guinevere into thinking it was a good idea?"

Merlin pulled away, taking several steps back, his look so cold it seemed to bring a chill with it.

"How can you ask that? We're doing it for you, to finish the kingdom you were trying to build." Merlin looked him over, waiting for a reassurance that didn't seem to be coming. "You accepted magic, you told me..."

"I accepted you, Merlin, it was never about magic. I know that you used your gift for good, to help me, I believed you when you promised me that you used it only for me." Arthur took a step forward but Merlin took another back. He didn't understand. "Not everyone is as harmless as you though and magic is dangerous.”

"Magic is not dangerous, people are dangerous.” He’d thought Arthur had understood. He’d thought he’d made Arthur see, by the end. Having that taken back was like having his heart ripped out of his chest. It was like Arthur was rejecting him, even though he’d claimed he wasn’t.

"But it corrupts, gives them power they shouldn't have, makes them want more. Magic makes people dangerous. Look at Nimueh, Morgause, look at Morgana. Magic is _dangerous_ ," Arthur said, imploring him to understand. He didn't want to argue with him.

"And what about me? I'm _dangerous_ then. I’m certainly not harmless as you seem to think. I could start a fire that could burn a kingdom down just as easily as they could. I could slay an army of men without raising a blade. I've killed for you, Arthur."

"I know but that was different," Arthur said lowering his eyes. "Morgana was so far gone, she would have-"

"No, not just then," Merlin corrected him. "I poisoned her, to save you. Morgause didn’t kidnap her, she rescued her. I was going to let her die then and before that, when she fell. She fell because of me anyway. I held her life in my hands so many times that in the end, killing her was a relief." Merlin paused, looking for a reaction but not finding one, Arthur seemed to take it in his stride. "Agravaine too. I barely thought about it. He was going to kill you so I stopped him, permanently. I can't count how many times I've used my magic to harm people so they don't harm you because I loved you so much I couldn't bear to see you hurt. So don't tell me that magic is dangerous because it really isn't, we are!"

Merlin stood and breathed, satisfied at the look in Arthur's face. He'd finally gotten the reaction he'd been after. His satisfaction jolted back into nothing when he realised he'd said more than he'd intended. It wasn’t the blood on his hands that had shocked Arthur; it was where his heart led.

"Arthur," Merlin started again, magic forgotten, the fight meaningless, his anger gone.

"What?" Arthur asked, staring, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and knowing full well what Merlin had said was true.

"I didn't mean for you to know that. Not any of it, really but especially not that." Merlin took a step forward, closing the gap he'd made before. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it," Merlin said, becoming frantic where Arthur was so still.

"No," Arthur said absently. "No, its fine, I’m glad you said it.” He finished, shaking himself.

"I didn't want you to find out like that, I..." Merlin felt hands pulling him back, felt the living world encroaching on them. He felt the world shift slightly.

"Merlin," Arthur said, reaching out to him when he flickered, grabbing his hand in both of his.

Merlin didn't know what Arthur was doing; only that he didn't want him to leave. He knew deep down he had to, he couldn't stay and Arthur couldn't leave. Not without risking becoming what his father had been, a vengeful spirit. He didn't want that, any of that but he couldn't let go yet either. He turned, one hand caught in Arthur's grasp and the other reaching out to the living world, pushing it back.

"No! I. Am. Not. Finished!" he shouted and when he turned back to Arthur his eyes were burning gold.

Arthur drew in a breath, rendered breathless. "I'm sorry, Merlin."

"Don't. Just," Merlin's voice dropped to a whisper, his eyes refusing to go back to blue because he was still fighting. "Forgive me."

"I understand, you have to go," Arthur said, letting Merlin's hand drop.

"Not for leaving. I will come back for you, that I swear." Merlin glanced back over his shoulder, he just needed a moment, just a few seconds.

"For what then?" Arthur asked but he knew before he'd finished speaking. He didn’t move to stop it from happening either.

"For this." Merlin's hand, the one that had been warm in Arthur's own, came up to warm his neck, his fingers just brushing the hair behind his ear, his thumb under his chin, holding him still as Merlin poured all his promises into one movement. He pushed forward, kissing him despite everything that told him it was a bad idea. He dropped his other hand, giving up the fight so he could focus on Arthur in all the chaos. He could feel the world pulling him but Arthur was pulling him too, hands on him, mouth kissing him back. Impossible, he knew Arthur would never kiss him back but he felt it. He was torn between the two of them, death with Arthur and life alone on the other side and he knew which one he wanted more. But that wasn't the side that won and they were thrown apart. Merlin was back in the harsh, real world once again.

-x-

Merlin looked up at the Stones of Nameton. He'd been sat there for a while now under their heavy glare, wondering if he should beg, just to be let in one more time, to have a few more minutes. He would always want a little bit more. He couldn't do it alone anymore and he was tired of pretending he could. Sometimes talking to Arthur and getting silence back wasn’t enough. Not when he...

He got to his feet, their glare sparking an anger in him as well. He wasn't being selfish, he wasn't. It was no longer just him than needed Arthur back, his kingdom needed it. They couldn’t face the war that was bound to come without him.

He walked across the plain, making promises with every breath. He _would_ find a way to buy himself more time within those stones. He _would_ find a way to bring Arthur back. That was the whole point of him dying, wasn't it, so he could return?

Merlin stopped, looking back at the stones, quite a way back now. He took a deep breath, wanting to scream at them for pushing him away and keeping Arthur. He let the breath out, screaming inside his head instead. He swore for a second there was an answering scream, an echo.

_MERLIN!_

-x-

 

**Now we're torn, torn, torn apart,**  
**There's nothing we can do.**  
**Just let me go, we'll meet again soon.**

 

-x-

It took Arthur a few seconds to realise what had happened. He wasn't holding onto Merlin anymore but he could still feel where he'd been, an imprint left in Arthur's shocked mind.

Which would have been fine, normal even. It wasn't like his closest friends usually made such revelations to him and then demonstrated them so. He wasn't used to hearing those words, not in that context. People, townspeople, the people from the outlying villages, visiting parties from other kingdoms, they all loved him in a way that made it just another word. His father had loved him in a way that never seemed to break the surface, was never quite within his reach. Gwen had loved him in a way that had grown comfortable, safe, like the warmth of a summer day. But that, whatever _that_ had been, with Merlin had seemed anything but safe and comfortable. It had been dangerous and desperate. Like trying to breathe water whilst drowning. Like trying to extinguish a fire by dousing it with more pitch. Like that golden fire that had burned in Merlin’s eyes. Arthur was sure he'd not been loved like that before, he'd never felt like he was air itself to a dying man. And he was thankful he'd never felt that way himself. He was thankful he’d been lucky enough to get everything he’d wanted, even if he'd had to wait for it.

It wasn’t how he’d reacted either, that made him think. He’d never thought about Merlin kissing him before, he’d never thought what he’d do if he did. What he was sure he wouldn’t do however had been exactly what he had done. Somehow, in all the mess, in all the ways he’d tried to cling onto Merlin and to life, he’d found himself actually clinging onto him. He’d kissed him back. He was sure of it, even if it all felt a bit of a blur after Merlin’s lips had hit his. He didn’t think he’d ever kissed anybody like that before, not even Gwen. It would be improper to kiss a lady like that, with such hardness and insistence, with teeth biting at the soft swell of lips... _oh fuck_.

Arthur abandoned that line of thought; sure something in his mind or his body had broken. These weren’t thoughts to be had. These weren’t things to think about _Merlin_ , of all people. That was something best forgotten and repressed and denied until it disappeared of its own accord. Like a cold or a sore throat. Or another, more inconvenient thing that he was sure was impossible now he was no longer living.

No, as startling as Merlin's actions had been, as unexpected as his own had been, that wasn't what was making him think. What was making him think was that he could still think. He could still see and hear and feel. He hadn't faded back into nothingness again. Merlin's presence was what made him feel alive again, he was sure of it. The instant Merlin had left before; he'd stopped feeling real, stopped feeling anything. It was like he didn’t exist unless Merlin needed him and willed him into existence. But here he was, still.

He squinted and realised the light of the interim had in fact left him a while ago. It was the sun he was looking at now, blinding him in a way he'd never thought he'd feel again. He lowered his eyes and his vision cleared. White light became blue sky and green grass and movement a few paces off. Dark hair and plain brown clothes. A sight he'd often walked behind. A sight he wasn’t meant to be thinking about.

Merlin had done it; he'd gone and done it. Broken the one rule. So had Arthur himself, he admitted but he wasn’t the one with magic, he wasn’t the one with control over their meeting. No, this had been Merlin. It had to have been. He’d been too busy getting the living daylights kissed out of him.

"MERLIN!" Arthur shouted after him and Merlin looked back but something was wrong. He wasn't surprised, he didn't smile, he didn't run back to him. He was looking through him, not at him.

"Merlin, you idiot." Arthur sighed and looked around him. He couldn't go back, not without Merlin's command. All he could do was follow him, whether he wanted to or not. And he had to concede, he longed to walk at his side again. He wanted to _live_ again.

-x-

It had been hours. Hours of walking and shouting and gesturing madly only for Merlin to look straight through him. Arthur was infuriated. How could it be, with all the magic and power he supposedly had, Merlin was still so oblivious to what was right in front of him. Not that he could talk, he’d only recently had his eyes thoroughly opened.

When Merlin stopped to make camp for the night, Arthur stopped too. He stopped yelling himself hoarse. He stopped calling Merlin every name under the sun that he could think of. He stopped and sat down across from Merlin, giving up for a while.

Arthur couldn’t help but notice how exhausted Merlin looked, not just from walking either. As bad as the things he’d said in the cave had been, Arthur could tell he’d still been putting on a show of being strong. Now he was alone and still, without a direction to walk furiously in, he seemed to stop completely.

Arthur shivered in his mail, the metal drawing in the cold and making him feel it in a way he wouldn’t have thought he could anymore. The chill seemed to spread to Merlin, who left him and returned a few moments later with an armful of broken branches.

Arthur took a breath, holding it as Merlin’s eyes burned again. He couldn’t stop the flash of memory that came with it. It was almost like for a second, it wasn’t Merlin anymore, not the Merlin he’d known. But then at the same time, Arthur had to admit it was Merlin and he had always been that way, it was just that he’d never been allowed to see him like that before.

Arthur blinked, bringing himself out of his thoughts and holding his hands up to the fire Merlin had created. Despite feeling the cold acutely, he couldn’t feel any of the warmth of the fire. Merlin seemed to be able to feel it better than he could, Arthur noticed, thankful that some of the colour had returned to his cheeks.

Merlin sighed and looked away from the fire, startling Arthur with the tears that shone in his eyes.

“Pull yourself together, will you?” Merlin said, making Arthur looked around, searching out who Merlin was speaking to, finding nobody but the two of them.

“Merlin?” Arthur asked, just in case it was him Merlin was telling to pull himself together. Which wouldn’t be a bad bit of advice, Arthur had to admit.

“Look, I know you can’t hear me but I’m sorry,” Merlin continued, confusing Arthur even more. “I shouldn’t have done what I did or said what I said. It was selfish and...I wish I hadn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?” Arthur asked, joining in even though he got the feeling this talk was supposed to be one-sided. “After everything I said, the way I treated you.”

Merlin looked around, his eyes dancing over Arthur just long enough that he thought maybe, maybe Merlin had heard him but Merlin looked away again, dashing those hopes.

“Today wasn’t meant to have been about me and you. Well, you perhaps but not me. I don’t matter, my stupid _feelings_ don’t matter, not when your kingdom is...” Merlin swallowed and Arthur looked down at the ground, not able to bear this sudden insight into the man he’d thought he’d finally figured out. “Not when I’ve messed everything up _again_ ,” Merlin continued, stronger, almost angrily.

“This isn’t your fault,” Arthur said again but he knew even if Merlin could hear him, it would do no good. Arthur knew what it was like bear such responsibility and have it go wrong, even when there was nothing to be done about it, it would always feel like a personal failing.

“I just keep failing you, no matter what I do,” Merlin shifted and looked around again.

Arthur realised he wasn’t looking for someone to hear him; he was making sure nobody could. These were things Merlin couldn’t bear to have heard but that needed to be spoken. Arthur wondered what had happened since he’d been gone. Not the change in laws or the treaties broken, the small things. How Merlin had lived day to day, what he’d been doing to help himself move on, who he’d taken comfort with. Arthur wondered if he’d been given the whole picture when Merlin had claimed everything was fine or if those frenzied goodbyes, when Merlin had admitted he couldn’t be without him, if that was closer to the truth. It felt egocentric to even think such a thing and it would be if it wasn’t the last thing Arthur wanted. He hadn’t wanted Merlin’s life to end with his own.

“You never failed me, Merlin,” Arthur admitted aloud. “I failed you.”

Arthur leaned over the fire, not sure what it was that he could even do. He wanted to place a hand on Merlin’s shoulder or take his hand like he had before, to reassure him that he wasn’t alone but for all Arthur could do, he might as well have been. All he managed was a slight stirring of the flames as he moved back away from them.

“We need you back. I’m sorry but we do,” Merlin said, stirred like the flames. “I have to get you back.”

Arthur sighed, he wanted to tell Merlin that he was here, he didn’t have to do anything but what could he do, the state he was in? He stared into the flames, following Merlin’s lead and falling into silence.

-x-

Merlin had been asleep for hours and after a while, Arthur had tried to sleep himself. He didn’t think himself capable of sleep anymore but he hadn’t betted on feeling the cold like he did or getting so tired from walking. Sleep took him after a while and he found himself dreaming, something else that he hadn’t bargained on.

He was back in the interim, everything felt detached and far away. He hadn’t noticed how dead he’d felt until he’d felt life again, until he felt Merlin again.

_I love you so much, I couldn't bear to see you hurt._

Arthur felt it like a slap this time, the shock all gone because he’d heard it before. It didn’t even seem to bear the same weight it had before. It was distant like everything else.

_Forgive me._

Arthur braced himself, he’d lived this before, he knew what was coming. But it didn’t come. There was no desperation, no danger.

_Merlin..._

Arthur woke with a start, not finding out what would have been said, how he would have made things better. He stared up at the sky, shaking some sense into himself. It was morning now and it had only been a dream, his mind trying to come to terms with all of Merlin’s revelations. It was just his guilty conscience punishing him.

Arthur swallowed, his mind still racing. It was like a fog had been lifted and he saw only too clearly now. How could he have not seen before? How could he have treated him like he did? He had been sorry before, when he realised all Merlin had done for him but he didn't know if he could forgive himself for behaving like that for years when Merlin...loved him.

He sat up, trying to escape his thoughts and finding Merlin still asleep on the other side of the embers. Usually he would have woken him but that was beyond him now. All he could do was look at him, really look at him in a way that he never had before. It made his throat dry and his palms sweat and when Merlin’s eyes snapped open, like he knew somehow that Arthur was watching him, Arthur jumped, guilty again.

During the day, Arthur tested his limitations. It had been obvious that Merlin couldn’t see him and he knew that nobody else would either, if there was anybody else wondering around the forests of Camelot. Short of that, Arthur didn’t understand anything. He could touch things. He could touch branches and trees and the ground and a dozen other useless things but he couldn’t touch Merlin, no matter how hard he tried. He just went straight through him.

By evening, heavy rain drove Merlin to a village, an inn and a warm meal under a solid roof. Arthur was thankful for it, not for his own sake but for Merlin’s. While Merlin dried himself by a large fire, Arthur tried to find any sign that anybody could see him or hear him, to no avail. He pushed open doors and knocked over stools, he rattled the windows and blew out the lamps but the patrons of the inn were far too interested in the bottom of their cups to notice him. The ones that did see harmless objects move seemingly of their own will just stared and put down their drinks, deciding they’d obviously drunk enough to start seeing things.

He’d hoped Merlin would stay the night in the inn, he certainly seemed to be able to afford it but much to Arthur’s confusion, he didn’t. He dragged himself, back out into the cold, determined to walk furiously until he was forced to sleep and forcing Arthur to do the same in the meantime.

-x-

Days later, Arthur lingered outside the gates of Camelot, not sure he wanted this. Being alive had seemed so much better than the alternative but a part of him didn’t want to see how everybody had moved on without him. It was selfish, he knew, but he didn’t know if he could bear to see Gwen ruling alone or the knights flourishing under Leon’s command.

The last few days had been so much about Merlin and his own guilt; all he’d wanted to do was fix things for him, even if he knew deep down it wasn’t that easy. Even if he could guide Merlin on the running of a kingdom, he couldn’t take away Merlin’s feelings and how they must have been slowly crushed over the years.

Now, pacing at the edge of the drawbridge, he remembered there were many other concerns he should have been worrying about. He’d never thought he could just walk back into his old life but being so close, it was hard not to want to even if he knew it couldn’t happen.

Arthur stopped pacing and stared at the castle again. He took a deep breath and stepped onto the drawbridge, taking another step after that. After a few unsteady steps he found himself on the other side of the drawbridge and officially inside the citadel. His citadel.

He looked around, unsure what to do with himself now. He’d lost Merlin in his hesitance and the press of people was almost too much for him. They didn’t part for him like they used to. They didn’t even know he was there.

He fought his way to the steps, a futile effort given the fact that people just seemed to melt right through him when he wasn’t quick enough to get out of their way. When he got to the steps he sat down on them, watching his people for a while, taking in how much but how little had changed.

He couldn't stay on the steps forever though; he had to face the things he didn't want to face. He stood reluctantly and started up the stairs towards the doors leading into the palace.

He followed a group of nobles to the doors of the council chambers, hoping to sneak in with them as it would certainly be noticed if the guarded doors took it upon themselves to open without assistance. He waited while the guards confirmed their identities. Arthur folded his arms, nerves turning into impatience. He'd never had to wait for these doors to be opened for him, not even when he was a child. He couldn't blame Gwen for the strict security though, not if what Merlin had said was true. So far, the kingdom had seemed only as dangerous as it had been before he left it but then he hadn't failed to notice how Merlin had taken only country roads or no road at all where he could. He hadn't even risked taking a horse. But Camelot itself didn't seem to be descending into chaos as he'd feared. He selfishly found himself agreeing with what Merlin had said a few days ago, on the first night in the forest, his first night back. He wished Merlin had given more time to go over the details of the trouble the kingdom was in, rather than... what he had said.

The drag of the heavy doors brought Arthur back to himself. He shook his head, wishing he could get all that talk of feelings and love out of his head but now he knew of it, it seemed determined not to be forgotten, no matter how hard Arthur tried to forget it. As if plaguing his dreams every night wasn't enough, it was always only a thought away while he was awake.

Arthur filed in behind the nobles, surprised at the amount of people who had been admitted to the council chambers, usually kept for private small councils in his day. It was also a strange feeling when he was completely ignored. He hadn't expected everyone to stand, like they had before but not a single pair of eyes looked up from the table as he approached it. Deep down somewhere he knew it was because to them, he wasn't even there but when all eyes turned to the head of table, where he used to sit, he couldn't stop the hollow feeling of being replaced creeping into his gut.

He managed to squeeze his way to the table edge, passing through half of the people in his way and grimacing every time he did because it was yet another unpleasant reminder that he wasn't really there.

The first thing he saw was Guinevere, in a dress of red silk and gold thread, looking more regal yet more stressed than he had ever seen her before. She wore a simple coronet in her hair, made of twisted gold, matching the curls of her hair well. He remembered having it made for her although he'd intended it to be worn to more joyous occasions than council meetings.

Arthur tore his eyes from Gwen, listening instead to what she was saying. He looked down at the table and saw several maps spread across it with several of their borders dotted with red string. Those were hostile borders, Camelot had always had a few but now almost every border was touched with red, even those Arthur had always marked as peaceful. Arthur looked from the maps back up to Gwen. Merlin hadn’t been lying when he said Camelot was alone.

Arthur returned to the steps in the courtyard, at a loss where to go. He'd headed straight for Gaius' chambers, finding them even emptier that he'd expected. Not only was Gaius not there but Merlin wasn't there either and there was no trace of him to be found. His room had been cleared out and turned back into a private room for patients, with only the bed and the bedside table remaining. It looked exactly as it did before Merlin had arrived in Camelot, although Arthur had rarely frequented the room, as he had always preferred to be treated in his own rooms. To be honest with himself, he was hard pushed to remember a time when the room wasn't Merlin's.

When he realised he wouldn’t find Merlin there, he went to his own chambers, or what used to be his chambers, though he doubted Merlin would be there. Even when Merlin had been his servant, it was unheard of for Merlin to actually do any work unprompted. He looked for him there nonetheless; it just seemed...where he should be.

Of course, he wasn't there either. Arthur had checked everywhere else he could think of, the small town, the courtyard, the throne room, the library and the council chambers again, just in case. He even checked the stocks and the cells, just in case he'd somehow managed to get himself into trouble.

So now, sat on the steps outside the palace, Arthur could only come to the conclusion that Merlin had in fact moved rooms. Arthur thought if he sat down for a while, somewhere central, then sooner or later he'd spot him or hear something that could help him but so far, nobody seemed willing to talk about him, even in passing. It was a long shot, Arthur supposed, given the fact he couldn’t actually ask anyone. He’d never felt so lost in his own home before.

He glanced around, trying to shake the feeling. The sun was starting to set and dinner would be served soon, Arthur guessed. Even Merlin had to eat.

-x-

Merlin sat at his desk, the one that used to be Arthur's, pouring over half a dozen books at once. It really was amazing what had come out of the woodwork once the ban on magic had been lifted. Merlin's personal collection of spell books had gone from just the one to about twenty but none so far had told him what he wanted to learn. They only told him things he’d already known. He could bring Arthur back as a wraith, forever chasing peace in Albion and unable to rest until he got it. He could commune with him but only for a moment by opening the veil and then closing it forever, as Morgause had done with Ygraine. He could drop the veil altogether and release all the spirits on the other side, bringing death to everyone living. He could turn Arthur into a shade and have him bend to his will but he’d already been burnt with that flame before, having Arthur pliant in his hands hadn’t quite been as enjoyable as it sounded. Or he could keep running to the sacred Stones of Nameton and live forever in the interim. Or he could turn and look back, bring Arthur back with him as a spirit. But Arthur had told him outright not to do that and the risk was too great, Merlin didn’t think he could bear it if Arthur ended up like Uther had.

Merlin closed the book he was looking at and closed his eyes. He’d been searching hours for an answer he knew he would never find. There was no consequence free magic cure for death. If there was, nobody would ever let go of their loved ones, would they?

Merlin sighed, the idea of bringing back Arthur properly, for good, had been all he’d thought about since he’d left him. Part of that was because he really did need him back but another part, Merlin had to admit, was focusing on that so he didn’t have to think about the rest. He opened his eyes again and stared down at some beast or other, closing the book and pushing it aside with a tiring sense that he’d done it before.

In perspective, with the thought of war hanging over them, it wasn't the end of the world. But still, when Merlin let his thoughts stray to that moment where his heart and his mouth had somehow overruled his brain, it felt like the end of the world.

He'd fought so long to keep control of his feelings, he'd survived years and years without saying a word; even if he'd nearly slipped a few times, fearing for his life or Arthur’s, being jealous or simply nearly saying the wrong thing, Arthur had never known. To know that it was all out in the open now scared him. It was irrational, he knew, it wasn't like anything, good or bad, could come of it. Arthur couldn't dismiss him, he couldn't humiliate him, he couldn't reject him, Arthur couldn't do anything, not for the moment.

His feelings couldn't even anger Gwen, his hopeless love couldn't be a threat now she was a widow, not that it would have ever been a threat while Arthur was alive. And he wasn't worried about anybody else knowing, not since Percival had told him that the knights as good as knew all along. No, it was the idea of Arthur knowing that made his mind race and his stomach drop.

Merlin pulled his jacket tighter around him. There was a chill coming through on the breeze from his window. He was sure he'd closed it earlier but apparently he'd not closed it well enough. He glanced back at it and shivered when it blew open, moved by a sudden gust of wind.

He stood, closing the window again, this time locking it. He looked from the desk to his bed, calling it a night even though the sun had only set a few hours ago. He was tired and he'd not slept in comfort and warmth for the better part of two weeks. He'd be lucky if he didn't end up ill. Perhaps that was why he felt so much colder recently.

He moved to pick up the candle, relighting it using magic where the wind had blown it out. He felt a breath of its warmth before it guttered out again.

"Come on," Merlin implored it, lighting it again. This time it stayed lit.

Merlin walked it over to his bedside table and set it down. He gathered his nightclothes from the wardrobe that had once housed dresses and pretty things, and got changed by the dim light of the candle. Now that he had the promise of a real bed, he could acutely feel the aches left behind by nights spent sleeping on forest floors and in caves. He didn't lament his time spent sleeping with nature though, he somewhat missed it. He'd been free to talk; he didn't have to worry about being overheard or looking like a prat. He could say things he wouldn't dare say to Arthur in the interim, even though he was fairly certain he'd said too much there already. Here, it just seemed a bit too close to home, too real.

"We're home then," Merlin said aloud. "Or I'm home, I should say. You're still there. But for a moment, let's pretend you're not. Let's just pretend, just for a little while, that you're here too."

Merlin paused, his chest tightening like it always did when he said daft things like that. He turned his attention to his covers, pulling them aside and getting beneath them.

"If you were here... I don't know, you'd say _stop being such a girl and shut up_. Well, sorry but I'm tired and I'm cold and I don't know what else to do so I'm going to pretend for a bit."

Merlin shivered and rolled onto his side, pulling the covers up to his chin and staring into the candle flame, trying to feel its heat better, the cold still at his back.

"If you were here, you would know what to do, wouldn't you?" Merlin asked the flame, really questioning his own abilities. "You'd fix everything as easy as breathing, I know you would."

Merlin shivered again, his thoughts making him colder. Arthur didn’t breathe anymore. Because of him.

"It's me, isn't it? I'm the one that ruins everything. I make the wrong choices. I let Mordred live. I turned my back on Morgana when she needed help. I made her what she became. I let them kill you. All those things I did, all the things I told you about in the cave, they mean nothing against my inaction. You deserved better, I'm sorry."

Merlin jumped at the sound of a crash and rolled over, following the sound. The window had blown open again, almost angrily. Merlin raised his hand and guided the window closed again, sealing it with magic so that no gust of wind could touch it.

He set his head back on the pillow and sighed, too tired to worry if the lock on the window was broken or that it had blown the candle out again.

"See, I can't even close a window properly, how could you-" Merlin cut himself off but the words still found their way out. "How could you love someone like me?"

Merlin took a deep breath, shocked at himself and his priorities. Guilt twisted in his stomach and he felt too exposed, like someone somewhere was watching him. He turned his back on the candle and defiantly closed his eyes, hating his selfishness and these stupid charades of his.

"I think that's enough pretending for tonight. Goodnight, Arthur."

Merlin didn't open his eyes again, he willed himself to sleep instead. He didn't see the candle flame reignite and burn steadily, casting a glow over his body.

-x-

Arthur was lying on the other side of Merlin's bed. He'd managed to peel off his cloak, armour, mail and boots, leaving them in a translucent pile of metal and leather by Merlin's bed. Only now did he feel safe enough to take them off, leaving himself in only a shirt and breeches.

He wasn't entirely comfortable with the arrangement, he never had been that comfortable being close to Merlin, literally or otherwise but it was the only way he was going to get any sleep. Strangely, the heat that came from Merlin's body was the only warmth he could feel, almost like Merlin was the only thing giving him life. Those were thoughts Arthur was even less comfortable with but they were a damn sight better than some of the thoughts he couldn't keep out of his mind. Or his dreams. It felt strange to be awake while Merlin was asleep but not be keeping guard. It felt suspiciously like he was watching Merlin sleep, which wasn't the case. Not in the slightest.

He was thinking, that was all. It had taken him ages before he followed the right plate to the right room. It had certainly been a surprise to see the servant approach Morgana's chambers, which had not been used since her betrayal. It had been even more if a surprise to see Merlin sat at a desk, positioned by the window, just like his own desk had been.

He'd stood then, calling Merlin's name over and over again, his frustration breaking the latch on the window and blowing all the books open, even the ones that were closed. Not that Merlin noticed. But he still talked to him like he knew he was there.

The words that Merlin thought had gone unheard only served to make Arthur feel worse, more frustrated. He'd blown out the window again and the candle along with it while trying to shout some sense into Merlin. Not a single word Merlin said was true and the fact that Merlin thought that they were, that he thought he didn't matter, that he wasn't worthy of love, made Arthur even angrier. He was angry because the only person that could have made Merlin feel that way was him.

Merlin had stopped talking after that and pretended to go to sleep. Arthur had calmed himself down and stared at candle he'd extinguished in his outrage until it magically relit itself, taking Arthur by surprise. He'd hoped it would be a sign of gentleness, of love, even if it was not the love Merlin had wanted from him in life, but Merlin didn't see it.

Now he really was asleep and Arthur was the one left to talk into the darkness. Perhaps if Merlin was asleep, he'd hear him. Arthur was sure that he'd felt Merlin in his dreams before, talking to him.

"Merlin?" He started but Merlin didn't wake so he kept trying. "Merlin, it's Arthur. I'm here, home, in Camelot. You brought me back with you, you dolt."

Arthur leaned in closer, knowing already that he couldn't shake him or touch him in any way but oddly wanting to. Arthur swallowed and put it down to impatience; he was just used to forcing Merlin to pay attention to him, that was all.

"I need you to listen to me, I know you never do but just this once, yeah?" Arthur smiled to himself when Merlin smiled in his sleep. "Come on, we did it before, I know you know how. That disgusting potion, remember? You want to talk to me, well, I need to talk to you too. I'm right here."

Arthur reached out his hand, this time not stopping to think about it, hitting Merlin's forearm out of habit. Both he and Merlin jumped when it connected.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted but Merlin just looked around, rubbed his arm and rolled over, presumably going back to sleep.

"Damn it, Merlin, what does it take to get you to listen?" Arthur said, frustration creeping back in at his failure to make himself heard. He stared down at his hand, aiming another few blows at Merlin's shoulder but they just passed straight through him.

-x-

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could forget his dream but at the same time trying to recall every detail. It was the fourth time in a week that he'd dreamed of Arthur. It was almost like he was only just gone again. He used to dream Arthur was still alive almost every night just after he'd died but all that had stopped, given time. But since he'd seen Arthur last, he couldn't seem to keep dreams like that away. And it was almost worse because it wasn't that he'd forgotten, he honestly felt, for a few seconds, like Arthur was back with him. But waking up, knowing he wasn't, that it was a new torment that he was quickly growing tired of, even if it made him happy in the moment.

Merlin shuddered, feeling a chill run through him. He hated it when thoughts of Arthur caught him off guard. At least when he was talking to him, or pretending to, Merlin had the control, he could decide when he wanted to stop, when it was too much. These dreams were making him feel powerless again.

Merlin opened his eyes, set on lighting the candle again but to his surprise he found it already lit. He stared at it for a second, unnerved. It wasn't the first time his magic had been ahead of him, acting on something instinctual and it wasn't the first time he'd used magic without knowing he had but that had been back when he couldn't control it. He knew, given his history with Morgana and Mordred, that magic performed under those circumstances was a sign of an unstable sorcerer and that thought did nothing to ease him back to sleep.

Dawn eventually came and Merlin rose with it, having barely slept. The idea that he was losing his mind had haunted him throughout the night. It wasn't too much of a leap, he decided, given how much stress he'd been under. Really, talking to himself- well, to Arthur- should have been the first sign but it hadn't felt crazy, it had felt comforting, like a nearby fire on a cold night, like a candle in the dark.

-x-

Arthur got up when Merlin did. After how he’d lost him the day before, Arthur was determined to follow him. He slipped his boots back on and averted his eyes as best he could while Merlin dressed. It was oddly uncomfortable despite the amount of times Merlin had dressed him. He supposed it was because Merlin didn't know he was watching. Merlin didn't know he was there.

Arthur moved over to the window. It was early, earlier than Arthur was used to but then, it was to be expected that Merlin would be up before he would have been. Merlin was always the one to wake him.

When he heard the scrape of boots against the stone floor, he turned and caught up with Merlin, following him out the door before he lost him again.

He walked in step with Merlin, something that the early hour allowed him to do without having to walk through any people. Merlin led him all the way to the council chambers, even though he appeared to be the only council member in attendance.

Merlin waited as Gwen took her seat at the head of the table, only sitting when Gwen gestured for him to do so. As nobody offered to pull out a chair for him, Arthur had no choice but to stay standing. Chairs didn’t exactly pull themselves out at meetings, after all.

"Merlin," she prompted him, waiving all formalities. Perhaps this wasn't an official meeting, Arthur realised.

"My lady," Merlin said in return."I wish to apologise for my unplanned absence."

Arthur half expected him to say he was gathering herbs for Gaius, that's how Merlin's excuses usually went. Although he knew now that they were not so much excuses as lies but he tried not to think about that.

"Is it anything I should be worried about?" Gwen asked and Merlin shook his head. "Then it is excused."

"Did I miss anything of importance?" Merlin asked.

She shook her head. "A few minor trade disagreements, that is all.”

"Then I shall take my leave," Merlin said, standing and then pausing. "I would ask to be relieved from my duties for a few days, to get settled again."

Finally Gwen seemed to smile like they were friends again. "Of course, Merlin, you don't need to ask. The rest of the week is yours." She made no move to leave herself so Merlin excused himself again and headed for the door, leaving Arthur torn between who to follow.

When the doors swung open for Merlin, revealing Sir Leon waiting, Arthur made his choice. Gwen would be in safe hands with Leon and if she chose to consult anybody about Camelot's troubles, it made sense that it would be him.

What Arthur didn't know though was why Merlin had asked for time off. In all the years he'd worked for Arthur, he'd rarely asked for time off, not seriously at least. But then, Gwen knew his secret now, perhaps he didn't feel like he had to sneak about anymore.

Arthur followed Merlin all the way to Camelot’s library, a place he had to admit he didn’t visit as often as a king should have. But it didn’t surprise him that Merlin did.

“Merlin,” Geoffrey greeted him, standing and leaning against his desk. “A book for Gaius, is it?”

“No, for me, actually,” Merlin said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. It wasn’t too hard for Arthur to imagine Merlin creeping around in the dead of night to look in the books Arthur knew Uther had forgotten were down here. Although he doubted Geoffrey would have let Uther burn them if he had tried to; no, that would have been sacrilege in the librarian’s eyes. Great Purge or no Great Purge.

“Ah, yes, of course,” Geoffrey took the candle from his desk and stepped around it. “You’ll be wanting the...yes.”

Merlin followed Geoffrey as he led him deep into the dark recesses of shelves, leaving Arthur to trail behind. Obviously whatever Merlin had been slaving over his own books for had not been put to rest yet. Arthur had tried to work out what Merlin was looking for last night but he flicked through the pages so fast that Arthur’s eyes couldn’t keep up.

“Here you go,” Geoffrey said, placing the candle on the table. “If you wish to remove any volumes from the collection, you’ll have to bring them to me first.”

Merlin smiled sheepishly and nodded, giving Arthur the feeling that Merlin had broken that rule many times before. He would even go so far as to guess that Merlin had broken _every_ rule in Camelot at some time or another. As Merlin started scouting the books he was after, Arthur found himself wondering, not for the first time, just how had Merlin kept the pretence up for so long without being caught? And that basically boiled back down to the single thought that kept resurfacing in some way or another since he’d found out: why hadn’t he known?

Arthur sat down on the table, knowing the chances of Merlin pulling out a chair for him were less than none. He waited for Merlin to return to the table and when he did, he was struggling with a stack of books taller than he was. Arthur started to rise, out of habit but then remember he couldn’t very well help him so he settled back down again, hoping that Merlin would choose the other end of the table to sit at.

He glanced at the cover of the book resting on the top of the pile and recoiled. _The Art of Necromancy_. Even sheltered from magic by his father’s orders, he knew what that meant, messing about with the dead. And there was only conclusion he could draw from that.

“Damn it, Merlin, I’m sat right here,” he said, as Merlin sat at the head of the table and pulled the book in front of himself. “Look...”

Arthur leaned forward and blew the candle out, holding his arms out like a performer of cheap tricks. Merlin didn’t even look up. He was too busy flicking through the pages. Arthur sighed, if he’d ever doubted that magic was dangerous, he was certain that dark magic, the kind Merlin seemed insistent on researching, was. He didn’t want Merlin using magic like that. He knew better than anyone, messing with life and death, always came with a price. He’d already caused his mother’s death by being willed to life once; he didn’t want Merlin killing himself or someone else they loved to do it again. What was worse was that it was a risk he didn’t even need to take. He was already back.

“Merlin, don’t do this,” Arthur asked, trying a softer approach. “For me, just let it be.”

Merlin glanced up at that but not at him, at the candle. He frowned and stared at it for a second. Arthur stared at it too, relighting it now that he had Merlin’s attention.

“Yes, see,” Arthur said, leaning over the table. “That was me, I did that. I seem to be a little bit magic these days.”

Merlin’s frown deepened as he returned to his book but the look of ill ease didn’t disappear as easily as it had before.

Arthur huffed, frustration overtaking him again. He blew out the candle and swiped at its holder, knocking it to the floor. Merlin pushed his chair back, away from the table. This time he couldn’t he couldn’t just brush off Arthur’s action and he couldn’t ignore it either.

“Yes! Come on, Merlin, you’re not as slow as you pretend, you know it’s me!” Arthur shouted, frustration coming to a head at being so close to being recognized. He reached out and pushed the books off the table, making Merlin get to his feet in shock. Arthur stood with him, waiting for a realisation to dawn on him. When none came and Merlin reached down to pick up the fallen books, Arthur could have screamed but instead he just breathed heavily and bit his lip, taking a more decisive action. He reached out to either side, as far as he could and even thought he couldn’t reach them with his body, the bookshelves fell, pushed outwards, away from them, Arthur didn’t quite understand what he’d done but he’d certainly done something. One bookshelf hit another and from the sounds of it, they just kept falling. Merlin started coughing, what seemed like a lifetime’s worth of dust rising in the air. Arthur crossed his arms, not sure what more he could do.

“Hello?” Merlin called, straightening up and looking about him with wide eyes, taking in what was left of the library. “Is someone there?”

“Finally,” Arthur said, stumbling over fallen books to put himself right in Merlin’s personal space. “Merlin, its Arthur. I’m-“

Arthur was cut off by a voice that sounded even more outraged than he did. Geoffrey. Fuck, what had he done? Merlin looked around, looking just as worried, his attention drawn away again.

“Don’t even think about it,” Arthur warned him but almost before he’d finished saying it, Merlin started running to avoid Geoffrey’s wrath.

“MERLIN!” Arthur shouted after him, picking up a book and throwing it, then another and another. He was certain at least one of them hit. He swore as Merlin disappeared from sight, giving him no choice but to chase after him.

He followed Merlin all the way to Gwen's chambers and waited with him until the door was opened... by Leon. If Merlin was surprised, he didn't show it, leaving Arthur to be surprised enough for the both of them. He leaned past Merlin, trying to see into the room, to see Gwen but she came to the door herself, fully dressed and immaculate looking. As was Leon. Arthur berated himself for jumping to conclusions. Of course, he was there for her protection, that was perfectly reasonable. Or perhaps they were discussing the protection of the kingdom, the management of the knights. He'd had Leon in his chambers well into the night discussing such things. He had been wrong to jump to conclusions and with a clearer head, he realised it wasn't his place to do even that. Gwen had been a widow for many months now; he had no claim over her affections in his current state. Gwen nodded at Leon to excuse him.

"Merlin, whatever happened to you, you look a fright." Gwen took Merlin's arm, dragging him inside and leaving Arthur to follow unseen.

"I think the library just tried to kill me," Merlin admitted, running his hand through his hair and raining down dust everywhere.

Arthur tried not to feel the stab of guilt that hit him. "I was not trying to kill you, don't be such a baby."

"Are you sure? I know Geoffrey's touchy about his books but-"

"Not the librarian," Merlin interrupted her. "The actual library, the books and-" Merlin cut himself off. "I didn't actually mean it, I was joking. I must have knocked over a shelf and it just..." Merlin gestured, encompassing the entire catastrophe in one motion.

"Right," Gwen said, stopping him mid-movement.

"So, I was hoping you could lend me a few knights to clean it up. Heavy lifting isn't my strong suit." Merlin tried to smile, to pretend it was nothing out of the ordinary but Arthur could see through him. He'd gotten through, he knew it. So why was Merlin talking to Gwen and not Gaius or Geoffrey or someone who knew about these things.

"Could you not have just magicked it away?" Gwen asked and Merlin's smile fell, she'd stumped him.

"I didn't think of that. I'm still... my first instinct is to hide."

"It's not my fault that you kept so much from me." Arthur said, feeling a kick of guilt again. He tried to quell it; it was hardly his fault Merlin hadn't told him. Or at the very least, he couldn't help it if he'd never known.

Arthur would have said more but Gwen and Merlin were talking over him, making arrangements. There was a look of sympathy on her face that he knew Merlin would do his best to pretend wasn't there. He wondered if he'd ever looked at Merlin like that when he realised the truth. He wondered if he had the whole truth now. As he died he had realised everything Merlin had done for him. After his death, before his life properly returned to him, he realised Merlin had done all those things not out of duty to their destiny but out of love. Watching Merlin when he thought he was alone had made him see what keeping those secrets all those years had done to him, how badly Merlin needed closure and reassurance. Arthur knew on some level that had been something Merlin had needed just as much from him when he'd been alive. But he couldn't do it; he didn't know how to deal with the emotions and the feelings of another man. He'd always been brought up to be a certain way, strong and sure. He kept his own feelings as far from his mind as he was able, how could he recognise another's?

He wasn't like Merlin. He couldn’t sit down beside him and see into his mind and his heart as easily as looking into his eyes. He couldn't say just the right thing and be wise. He couldn't say anything real unless he paired it with a joke or an insult, unless he took it back a breath later.

But he was gone now, that Arthur. He was no longer a king or a son or a husband. He could no longer wield a sword or fill his crown. All he had left was his thoughts and his feelings. He didn't even have Merlin, not right now, not really. In a horribly self-aware way, he had to admit that perhaps being like this was giving him a chance to appreciate the things he'd neglected before, learn how to do the things that were needed of him.

Merlin and Gwen's laughter pulled Arthur from his thoughts.

"And if Geoffrey gives you anything to sign, make sure it's not a warrant for my execution."

Arthur looked past the smile and wondered how nobody else could see though Merlin's act.

Upon leaving Gwen's chambers, Arthur left him. It wasn't that he was admitting it was his fault but he knew he needed to be away from Merlin for a bit, just in case he really did do something dangerous in his desperation to be noticed.

Arthur walked around for a while, trying to think of a way out of his predicament. There wasn't one, of course. He couldn't go back. He couldn't force Merlin to notice him if he seemed determined not to. But then, he couldn't keep watching, helpless, for much longer.

He could feel it in the air, like he was sure Gwen and Merlin could. An attack would come, sooner or later. One of their enemies would become friends with another and just like that, they would set their eyes on Camelot. And like this, there was nothing he could do to help Gwen, to help Camelot. Like this there was nothing he could do to help Merlin.

He followed different people, Gwen, Leon, Percival, Gaius, nobles, knights, even some servants, trying to take in as much as he could from every view point, trying to learn as much as he could. In a way it was refreshing. He heard things and saw things that he never would have as king.

When darkness fell, the chill set in and he knew he had to go back to Merlin. He couldn't explain it, even to himself but being close to Merlin, as close as he dared to be, was the only time he didn't feel as cold.

Merlin's door was closed but not locked. Nobody stood guard over it so Arthur dismissed the risks and opened the door himself, stealing inside like a thief. Merlin didn't notice and Arthur couldn't help but be disappointed even though he'd promised enough ghostly active was enough for that day.

Arthur shed as many clothes as he could afford to lose. Somehow, the closer to Merlin he slept, the more he dreamed about him, the warmer he would be until he'd wake up frozen, detached from him. He left the candle lit and the windows untouched. He’d promised Merlin peace for the night but it seemed Merlin himself would not allow it, speaking softly as Arthur settled on the bed.

"I'm trying to find the answer, Arthur, I really am but... I don't know, I'm probably going insane but it seems like everything is set against me. Even my magic. I can't trust it, I can't trust myself," Merlin paused, worry set deep in his eyes. "I'm lighting candles and that's really just creating fire, that's never good. I'm letting my anger blow out windows and destroy libraries. I took down a whole library because the stupid book wouldn't give me the answer I needed. Maybe I should stop looking."

Arthur didn't want to listen, he didn't want to end up screaming that he was there at the top of his lungs again but if this was all his fault, if Merlin took comfort in talking to him, even pretending, he owed it to him to listen.

"I wish I could ask you what to do, you'd know what to do,"

"You're wrong, Merlin, I've never been so confused, so scared, in my life, I don't know how to fix this," Arthur admitted for the first time. Given time he could fix the kingdom, mend the broken peace treaties but this, whatever he'd broken in Merlin, whatever had changed between them with the knowledge of what ran between them, with that he didn't know where to begin. The inconvenience of being dead paled in comparison to that.

"Goodnight, Arthur."

"Goodnight, Merlin."

-x-

Merlin knew he was dreaming. He had to be, he was with Arthur. He used to hate dreams like this, even when Arthur had been alive. He could pretend for a while, but in the end they only reminded him of what could never be.

Arthur lay on his bed, next to him. It was almost like he was still awake, except Arthur was there and that was impossible. Arthur was dead. This Arthur however was staring upwards, seemingly lost in thought. Whenever this happened before, Merlin would always poke and prod and try to get Arthur to open up. But this being a dream, he decided to be more direct.

"Is this my punishment for giving up?" Merlin asked the Arthur of his mind. "Or is talking to myself and pretending it’s you not enough now?”

"You weren't talking to yourself, you were talking to me," Arthur corrected him.

"How do you know, you weren't there," Merlin retorted, putting himself on his back and copying Arthur's position.

"I am here," Arthur said, glancing at him sideways.

"But you're not, not really," Merlin looked him up and down. "You're just the product of a mind running itself in circles."

"What does that mean?" Arthur asked turning his body to the side, to face him, making Merlin unconsciously do the same.

"It means I can't stop thinking about you although gods know I try, so it's only reasonable I'm dreaming about you too."

"Or perhaps I'm dreaming about you?"

"This is my dream, I assure you," Merlin said, wistful. It was always his dream.

"Prove it," Arthur challenged him and Merlin raised an eyebrow. Usually in his dreams Arthur was less argumentative.

Merlin moved his hand, fingers spayed, palm down, over the space between them. "You're gone Arthur, dead, that's what this dream is trying to avoid." Merlin moved the hand up onto Arthur's bare chest, the skin was a little colder than he expected but not icy like a corpse and Arthur breathed in at the touch. He pressed the heel of his hand over Arthur's heart, finding the tell tale thumping. "Dead men don't have beating hearts, they don't breathe and one usually can't touch them."

"I touched you once," Arthur said, a confused look passing over his face.

"Yes, I remember it happening more than once but I'll take what I can get," Merlin joked, not sure where this dream was taking him.

"We were lying like this, you were sleeping like you are now," Arthur pressed on regardless. "I was trying to get you to listen to me but you couldn't hear me. I wasn't thinking, I just did it, like I used to. It was just a gentle hit, to wake you up but I did hit you and you did wake up."

"I don't remember this, are you sure it really happened?" Merlin asked, losing himself in the dream for a moment.

"It was only last night,” Arthur said, glancing down at Merlin’s hand on his chest.

"Yes, I remember," Merlin said, last night’s dream coming back to him.

"You do?" Arthur asked him and Merlin could swear the pulse under his hand quickened, the skin felt warmer, normal even.

"Another dream. I have them a lot. A lot more recently."

"No, not a dream, _this is a dream_ , that was real."

"But if this is a dream, how can I trust what you say is real?"

"Because you're always right. You and your funny feelings. You know, somewhere in that maze of a mind of yours, you know what's going on. You just don't want to see. I don't know why. But we both know it's too much of a coincidence, just like it was with my father."

"I don't let myself believe it because I know when it's not you, my heart is going to break all over again for believing I had you back. And if it is just a dream, my heart will break for believing it anyway because it always does," Merlin filled in for him.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Arthur said, laying his hand over the hand on his chest.

"Now I know I'm dreaming," Merlin smiled.

"Then wake up," Arthur said and Merlin woke with a jolt, light from the window half blinding him. Blinding him enough that he thought, for a second, he still saw Arthur, led beside him, so close. But his eyes adjusted and whatever shred of the dream that had stayed with him faded.

-x-

Arthur started awake, his heart racing and his body almost burning. He'd been dreaming, he knew he had but it wasn't like any dream he was used to. It had been Merlin’s dream. He had been talking to Merlin, he'd been touching him, actually touching him. Merlin’s hand on his chest, warming him through. It was almost realer than reality. It was certainly better than reality.

He looked over at Merlin, who was flat on his back, breathing heavily and looking as spooked as he felt. The Merlin in his dream had been adamant it was his dream. It had felt so real, like they were actually talking and hearing each other and when Arthur had suggested they wake, Merlin had woken with wide searching eyes that seemed to stare into his own just for the briefest second more than the dream had given him. They had still been touching, even though it was impossible, he had felt it. He would swear it on oath.

Arthur reached out and placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder but it refused to connect and Merlin just shivered, a knowing look in his eyes. He'd believed him, in the dream, just for a moment. Did that mean he was right and Merlin did know deep down somewhere? It was a though he'd tried to keep buried because of its implications, the ones Merlin had answered with but now he'd given it a voice. Did Merlin know? Did he just not want to believe?

"Merlin, I am here, I promise," Arthur took a breath and reached out again, hovering his own hand above Merlin's. It had fallen palm up and it was between them. Oh gods, was he really doing this? He closed his eyes and his hand grew warmer. Oh gods, could he really say it out loud? The words were waiting in his throat, clawing their way free even as he cursed himself for giving any of this a voice. "I won't break your heart, not again. I'm not going to leave you."

Arthur didn't open his eyes but he did let his hand drop and find Merlin's. He had no clue what the hell he was doing, what the hell he was thinking but he could feel Merlin's hand in his and this time, he didn't let shock push him away. He didn't know what Merlin felt, if he felt anything but he could feel Merlin's magic burn like flames up his arm, warming him, sparking him back to life, just like in the dream. He dared open his eyes and look at Merlin.

Merlin was looking back, still searching, not quite seeing. But that realisation was there. He'd gotten through, finally.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked aloud and Arthur squeezed his hand, in case he couldn't hear him.

"About bloody time, Merlin."

-x-

Merlin sat at Gaius' table, wondering how best to broach the delicate subject that was Arthur. Just like old times really.

"Do you think, hypothetically, there's a way to release a spirit from the other side, at the Stones of Nameton, other than looking back?" he asked finally.

Gaius gave him a look, one he'd seen all too often.

"I'm not going to try it, I promise, I just need to know," Merlin clarified, regretting asking already.

"Not that I know of," Gaius answered slowly, not breaking his gaze.

"Not even if one was at the Stones and one was a... fairly powerful sorcerer, could the spirit be, I don't know, willed into our world by accident?"

"Merlin..." Gaius started but Merlin caved before he'd even finished saying his name.

"I just wanted to talk to him," he admitted.

"You know those Stones, the rituals performed there, are dangerous magicks," Gaius reminded him although the reprimand came way too late. Not that he would have listened had he been told beforehand. He'd weighed up the risks and deemed Arthur worth it. Twice. And he'd still do it again in a heartbeat if needed.

"I was careful," Merlin said, trying to reassure him. "At least, I thought I had been."

"You looked back?" Gaius asked and Merlin shook his head, picking up a small knife for chopping herbs and turning it over in his hand, trying to distract himself from the answers he knew he would have to give. "Are you sure, it's easily done."

"Not possible," Merlin said, running his finger over the flat of the blade and turning the knife nervously again.

"A glance would have been enough," Gaius pushed on.

"I couldn't look back even if I'd wanted to, my eyes were closed," Merlin admitted, pressing his thumb over the tip and turning it again.

"Whatever were you doing with your eyes closed?" Gaius asked, his eyebrow rising even further than usual.

Merlin glanced up and the knife slipped, slicing open his thumb. "Ow. Nothing. I wasn't _doing_ anything.” Merlin looked down at the cut and healed it silently. “They were just closed. I close my eyes all the time, see, I just did it then."

"You blinked, Merlin, there is quite a difference between blinking and having your eyes shut tight enough that you didn't know which way you were looking."

Merlin sighed and put the knife down. That was about as far down that path as he was willing to get. "That's not what's important here, Gaius, I didn't look back. Is there another way? Yes or no?"

"No," Gaius answered. "At least not one I've heard of."

"And if you've not heard of it, it's not there to be heard of," Merlin said, disappointed. He knew he shouldn't have let Arthur get his hopes up...his dream of Arthur, that was. But what had happened afterwards, he was sure he'd been awake then.

"Why?" Gaius asked, dragging him back to the moment.

"Huh? Why what?" Merlin asked, having lost the thread of the conversation.

"Why do you ask if you know you didn't look back?" Gaius asked, elaborating.

"It'll sound stupid but since leaving the Stones, I've... I don't know. I've been thinking about him a lot, I guess," Merlin said, rationalising it as best as he could, deciding to keep the fact that it wasn't just thinking to himself.

"That's only to be expected. I'm sorry, Merlin, but you're never going to get over Arthur's death if you don't let him go," Gaius told him and although the words felt like a blow, Merlin knew they had been intended as a kindness. They still hurt all the same.

"That's not what it was about, it wasn't about me. This is why I didn't want to say anything." Merlin stood but he didn't leave, instead he took up pacing. "Look, it doesn't matter why I went or how I justified it to myself, I just needed someone to tell me that I was being paranoid and you've done that so..."

Merlin turned his pacing towards the door but he could feel Gaius' eyes boring into his back. He stopped with his hand on the door. He took a deep breath but he couldn't turn around. "I wanted it to be him so badly. Too badly."

There was a pause and then he felt Gaius give in. "Just because I haven't heard of a way, it doesn't mean there isn't one."

Merlin hesitated, not entirely sure he wanted to go any further into what he thought and felt, especially if it was all unfounded but then if it wasn't...

He turned and paced back towards the table, taking his seat again. "It's not just that I'm thinking about him, that I... well, it's not exactly new. But like with Uther, I can almost feel him, like a shadow behind me but of course, when I try and shed light on it, it disappears."

"Has anything unusual happened? Has anyone reported strange goings on as with Uther?" Gaius asked, collecting bottles and dried herbs together.

"Candles have been going out and relighting and my window got broken. I thought it was me, my magic."

"Nothing that could be thought of as dangerous or an attack? It is possible that someone out there is trying to make an attempt on your life."

"No, nothing like that," Merlin said before blushing. "Well, there was the incident in the library, I'm sure you heard about how I nearly demolished it. But that really could have been me, I was tired and angry. Everything fell away from me, like I was the centre of a ripple. All I got hit by was a few wayward books and a whole lot of dust."

"Could that not have been a cry for your attention?" Gaius asked, working while Merlin talked. He sprinkled a powder into the mix he'd made and watched for a reaction.

"Would a _hello_ not have worked just as well?" Merlin muttered and a huff of air blew past him, making him jump.

"Perhaps not. Uther went to some pretty extreme lengths to be heard," Gaius said, stirring the mix.

"Arthur's not Uther, he wouldn't hurt me on purpose. At least, not more than he would have when he was alive." Merlin considered sharing the dream he'd had, how Arthur had hit him, apparently, and managed to touch him. How he'd been led, perfectly still, trying to piece it all together in his mind when he'd felt his hand grow cold, getting colder and colder until it burned impossibly hot and he felt the weight of another hand in his. He decided to keep that to himself, just in case this really was all in his head.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Gaius asked and Merlin let out a huff of air, similar to the one that had blown past him a moment ago.

"Yes, I tried that," Merlin admitted. It wasn't the whole truth but it wasn't lying either. It was a happy middle ground between the two.

"And?" Gaius prompted him.

"And nothing," Merlin said, honest this time. Arthur had never answered him back, not once. "Nothing more than the candles and the windows."

"And there's nothing else it could be?" Gaius asked, taking the mortar, tipping its contents into a nearby cup of water and stirring it all together.

"It could be anything, that's the problem." Merlin sighed. "I just really want it to be him. I don't know."

"Then I suggest you drink up." Gaius nodded at the cup and Merlin glanced down at its contents. The water had turned a horrible, almost alive looking shade of green. His stomach turned at the memory.

"Gods, I don't have to drink that again, do I?" Merlin grimaced and picked up the cup, turning it around in his hands.

"You do if you want to know for sure. If Arthur is here, that will let you see him."

There was a loud clatter and the door swung open on a gust of wind.

"That's not my magic, is it?" Merlin asked. He was perfectly calm, patient; a little apprehensive perhaps but that was only the fear that it might not be Arthur. He was certain, if he was certain of anything, that he had a handle on his magic.

"I don't think it was, no," Gaius confirmed and Merlin nodded, throwing his head back and necking the potion before his tongue begged him for mercy.

He closed his eyes, feeling the potion change them, making them able to see what went unseen. When he opened them again, he expected Arthur to be there, in front of him. He tried not to let it disappoint him when there was nobody but him and Gaius.

"Good luck," Gaius said, placing a strong hand on Merlin's shoulder. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"If I don't," Merlin paused, knowing he intended for this to happen if he did as well. "Can we not speak of it again, to anyone? I'd hate for Gwen - her highness - to find out."

"If course," Gaius nodded. "I understand."

Merlin gave him one last look before rising. Something in his expression said he really did understand, even the things Merlin hadn't said. It was an uncomfortable yet oddly comforting knack he had.

Merlin headed for the door, resisting the urge to start running down the halls screaming Arthur's name. He walked down the corridors slowly, checking every hiding place just in case. Arthur had known this castle better than anyone living.

He checked the places he'd look for Arthur when he was alive but found him in none of them. On some level, he knew where he'd find him but if he went straight there and he wasn't there, that would be the end of his hoping. He wanted to preserve the idea for just a little bit longer.

 

-x-

Arthur pulled open Merlin's door and closed it again, not caring who saw. He pressed his back to it and breathed heavily. He'd run all the way from Gaius' chambers the instant he'd worked out what they were doing. He wanted Merlin to see him, of course he did, but not like that, not in front of Gaius. He had to get out of there and get back here before Merlin took that potion.

He expected Merlin to come through the door moments after him but once five or ten minutes had passed, Arthur began to get nervous. What if Merlin sent him back? It was all an accident; he hadn't brought him back on purpose. But no, from what Arthur had seen and heard, Merlin wanted him back as much as he wanted to be back.

His being back was going to be a delicate issue though, he could feel it. Just like all the other things he'd seen and heard - gods the things he'd felt and said - were all going to be delicate issues. His panicking was brought to a halt when he heard footsteps outside the door. He took a deep breath in, waiting for the inevitable. When it finally did come, when Merlin finally opened the door, he couldn't breathe. It was like his lungs had forgotten their job.

Merlin was pale, white almost and stunned into silence. It was almost like he was the ghost, not the one alive. "Arthur?" he finally asked.

"Merlin," Arthur managed to get out before Merlin started towards him, like he'd only needed that tiny one word confirmation that this was real. When he realised what Merlin was going to do, embrace him, go straight through him, he nearly said _don't_ because he couldn’t bear to have that happen, not with Merlin. But Merlin was faster than he was and not for the first time since dying, he was faced with the unbelievable feeling of a warm, solid body pressed against his. He didn't move, for fear his own body would remember it wasn't really there.

Merlin must have read his stillness as discomfort because he pulled away blushing, a pink hue colouring the cheeks that had been so pale upon the sight of him, upon seeing a ghost.

"I'm sorry," he apologised and Arthur shook his head. How could he be sorry?

"Don't be stupid, Merlin," he said, wishing he could offer some better reassurance but it was hardly his strong suit.

"I knew it was you, I didn't want to let myself hope in case-" Merlin started but Arthur held up a hand and dropped it again, cutting him off.

"I know, you told me."

"Oh, right, yes," Merlin nodded. "That was real then?"

"It was real to me, I don't know how it works for you," Arthur said, trying not to over think the finer points of being inside someone else's dream.

"It was real," Merlin decided, reaching out a hand and then pulling it back. "You don't look quite real."

"I am here, I assure you," Arthur promised. "I've been trying to tell you all week."

"So it was the Stones then, I did bring you back," Merlin said although there was no other explanation. "I'm sorry,” he apologised again.

Arthur stared at him, dumbfounded. "Why are you sorry, you idiot, it's what you wanted."

Merlin pulled a face. Perhaps that hadn't come out as fondly as it had sounded in his head.

"It's not what you wanted though, is it?" Merlin said and Arthur could almost feel the guilt in the air.

"Why would you think it's not what I wanted?" Arthur asked, fighting the urge to tell Merlin just how badly he'd wanted to be back.

"You told me not to keep coming back. You told me to move on," Merlin reminded him.

"I said that for you, so you wouldn't end up an old man wishing he hadn't wasted his life away pining over his dead friend," Arthur explained but instead Merlin looked like he'd been slapped. Then Arthur realised his bad choice of words. "Fuck, not like that, I didn't mean like _that_. I just meant I didn't want you to put your own life on hold because I'd lost mine."

Arthur tried to smile, even though no aspect of the situation called for it. Merlin's face stayed just as hurt, Arthur's attempt to straighten things out lost on him.

"I never _pined_ after you," Merlin said after a beat, anger creeping into the hurt. "I was happy for you, always. I cheered in the crowd when you married Gwen. I served you, and her, without comment or complaint when it came to my own feelings. I did _not_ pine."

"No, I know, I didn't mean... it was a poor turn of phrase, alright?" Arthur said, exasperated. Merlin had always managed to say the right thing, get to the heart of a matter in a few simple words, even matters of the heart. Why did he have to put his foot in his mouth and fuck it up in the first few minutes?

He took a breath, the anger still there in Merlin. He decided, for once, to say what was on his mind. "Please, Merlin, I don't want to fight."

For a moment it seemed like Merlin wasn’t going to let it go but he did, sighing and shaking his head. “What do you want then? I can’t bring you back, I’ve looked in every book, there is no consequence free way. But I can’t send you back, not yet. Camelot needs you, so if for no other reason than that, don’t ask me to send you back.”

“I know,” Arthur said, not knowing which acts of voyeurism to own up to and which ones to keep to himself. “I saw you try. But that’s not important now. You and Gwen need to be ready for this war.”

“I know. That’s why I was trying to bring you back,” Merlin moved past him and sat down in the chair behind the desk, pulling papers from the draws. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Advise Gwen like you advised me.” Arthur frowned. “Merlin, I don’t understand why you need me to tell you that.”

Merlin looked up from the papers, an equal frown on his face. “I wouldn’t know what to say. I-” Merlin swallowed and shifted in his seat under Arthur’s gaze. “I never advised you on how to stop wars or bloodshed. I never knew what was best for Camelot, how could I? I grew up where the biggest dispute was who got the extra spoonful of porridge in the morning.”

“You gave me advice on plenty of matters, even when I didn’t ask for it,” Arthur said, his frown deepening. “You’re selling yourself short, I assure you.”

“No, Arthur. I told you what I knew to be true, that was all. I told you what you would do and who you would become and the kingdom you’d forge. I was just lucky that I had a good source. That’s all.”

“You know that’s not true,” Arthur said, the fact that he could finally speak out against Merlin’s self-deprecation and actually make him hear him went through him like a chill. He could feel it all pressing on him like a dam about to burst. “Without you I would have made so many of the wrong choices. I would have lost myself so many times. I would have ended up dead.” Merlin raised his eyebrows but Arthur didn’t stop. “Alright, dead before my time then. You were the one person in my life that... I don’t know how to say what you did even. You did everything and expected nothing, got nothing. And that’s my fault. Mine, singular. I should have seen, I was a fool for not seeing but I can’t bear for you to not see it now. And right now, the least I can assure you of is that, yes, Merlin, had the circumstances gone that way, I could love someone like you, no matter what you think and right now, I wish I couldn’t because listening to you like this, knowing what you’ve done for me, is the worst feeling in the world.”

Arthur took a breath and then another when the first one didn’t seem to work. Oh gods, what had he said? Gods, was this what had happened to Merlin in the interim? Was that all it took, just opening ones mouth and letting the words rush out when they needed to, trusting that they’d be the right ones?

Luckily, Merlin’s attention was drawn in another direction. “Have you heard everything I’ve said? All of it?”

Arthur tried to judge his reaction. It wasn’t more anger, which was a start, but it wasn’t happiness either. His tone was hollow and his face betrayed nothing. It was like he wasn’t really there.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t always with you.”

“But you heard that?” Merlin confirmed.

“Yes. I heard that,” Arthur admitted, trying to plan for every outcome. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t not hear, you were talking aloud, addressing me by name, in my presence.”

“I didn’t know you were listening. If I had, I wouldn’t have said it.” Merlin put his elbows on the desk and put his head in his hands.

“Well, you should have. You should have told me before; I should have known all that.”

“Those weren’t things I wanted you to know, Arthur. Those were things I didn’t want anybody to know.”

“Then why were you telling me them? Why not keep them to yourself?” Arthur risked pulling on that thread, hoping the whole thing would unravel and they could be done with it. And if he was honest, he wanted another outburst to overshadow his own. And he needed to know what Merlin was thinking. He couldn’t live with not knowing now.

“Percival told me to. He talked to Gwaine after-” Merlin broke off, looking up at Arthur, like he couldn’t address death under the circumstances. “He said it helped, I tried it and I don’t know, it became a bad habit. I’ve certainly learnt my lesson.”

“And I’ve learnt mine,” Arthur said, taking a seat on the edge of the desk, running a hand over its edge. “I’m glad you said what you said. I _needed_ to hear it. Just like you needed me to hear it.”

“All of it?” Merlin looked up at him doubtfully and Arthur cast his mind over everything that had been said, all the way back to the moment Merlin had told him he was a sorcerer.

“All of it.”

There was a moment of silence while the tension dissolved and Merlin just looked at him, like he was trying to work him out. Like Arthur remembered feeling when Merlin did something surprising. He’d thought they’d both have it all figured out by this point but it seemed even more messy now. For a second, words started creeping up his throat, confessions and confusion, pleas to know what all of it meant but he pulled back and stopped himself. “So, what shall we do about this war then?

-x-

They talked for a long time, until the sun was high in the sky and the bells tolled noon. There was a knock at the door and Merlin stopped talking mid-sentence just as his door opened and a servant brought his lunch in. Merlin thanked him for the food, his eyes drifting to where Arthur was sat, where his plates were usually placed. Arthur got the message just in time to avoid a plate being placed through his lap.

He waited for the servant to excuse himself before he spoke again, even though the servant wouldn’t hear him either way. “When do we tell Guinevere all this?”

“About this,” Merlin gestured at the pages of notes and hand drawn maps, “or you?”

“This,” Arthur said, ignoring the other option and hoping Merlin didn’t press him on it.

“She knows. Surely she knows,” Merlin mused, looking down at all the papers, studying them. “Between being with you before and having Leon advising her now, she’ll have figured all this out.”

“Maybe,” Arthur admitted. “But it’s about time she shared what she knows with what you know. I really don’t understand why she hasn’t already; she always encouraged me to listen to you.”

“It’s not as simple as all that,” Merlin said after a pause. “She won’t tell me her worries for the same reason I wouldn’t tell her mine.”

“And what’s that?” Arthur asked, clueless about any possible reason for enmity between them.

“We don’t want to admit we’ve failed you,” Merlin said, putting on a show of organising the papers.

“Don’t be an idiot, Merlin, let’s go and talk to her.” Arthur slid off the desk and headed towards the door. “And by gods, will you both stop thinking like that, it makes me feel even worse than I already do.”

“For someone who feels bad, you’re pretty quick with the name-calling,” Merlin said, moving so slowly it was like he was being pulled up against his will.

Arthur pursed his lips. He knew Merlin knew that there was no spite in his words. Over the years, the names he called Merlin became almost akin to the names he called Guinevere. That was just how it was. He couldn’t stop them from coming out of his mouth every so often. But he could stop himself telling that to Merlin.

“Did you tell Guinevere about your plans to _visit_ me?” he asked, changing the subject to something that he really did need to say.

“No. I didn’t feel like I could explain myself to her. It seemed selfish to deny her the chance to see you too but...” Merlin trailed off and Arthur nodded.

“I understand.” He wondered how best to word his request without drawing suspicion on himself or putting his foot in it again but this was something he wanted to keep between them, a secret they could finally share. “In the same vein, I would ask you not to mention my return. She’s doing so well, moving on, not to say you’re not but... she’s better not knowing, I think.”

“I understand.” Merlin nodded, a look going between them. A secret they could finally share.

Gwen was easy enough to find in the council chambers, along with Leon and a handful of other knights. From the snatch of conversation Arthur heard before the knights were dismissed, Leon along with them, another trade route was being pulled back, away from their borders. Arthur tried to discern which border Camelot was shying away from using the maps on the table while Merlin took a seat. Arthur guessed at Meredor or Mercia, Amata perhaps if there was gold in it for them. He couldn’t imagine Rodor standing against Camelot, not when he helped free him and Mithian from Odin’s power the year before. He couldn’t believe Gawant would be a threat to them either, he’d known Lord Godwyn since he was a boy, he preferred peace to war. He really hoped Gwen didn’t fear Annis, Arthur’s whole plan relied on a friendship with Caerleon.

Merlin glanced around, nervously seeking him out. Arthur rolled his eyes and took his place across from Merlin’s chair, standing opposite him. They’d been over the plan several times, Merlin didn’t really need him there but he didn’t seem to trust himself to say it all right. Arthur had no choice but to hover, ready to back him up should he need it.

Merlin unrolled the map, identical to the one Gwen already had but this one had different markings, ones that Merlin had drawn on as Arthur told him to. Upon a nod from Arthur, Merlin cleared his throat.

“As we stand at the moment, Camelot feels alone,” Merlin started, hesitantly. “By pulling our troops in and visibly preparing for a siege or a battle but not talking to the other kingdoms, we’re closing ourselves off to help. The people are talking about it and they’re scared, if they think we are alone then so will everyone else.”

“Merlin, we are alone,” Gwen said, looking over the map and dismissing kingdoms one at a time. “Bayard and Odin have publically torn up their treaties with us, Bayard because I am a woman, Odin because he can. Sarrum’s son is courting anyone that would pay for their army, including the Saxons. Rodor won’t talk to us since we legalised magic, not surprising seeing what Morgana did to Mithian. Tír-Mòr will stay neutral, as they always do and Godwyn will not risk breaking his peace with the other kingdoms to come to our aid.”

“And Caerleon. Annis will hold true to the peace she formed with Arthur,” Merlin said, nearly glancing up at Arthur before he stopped himself.

“Or she will form a new alliance with Gwen, all she needs to do is ask,” Arthur said, pushing for something that would move the kingdom on from him.

“Better yet, she might be open to form a new alliance with you,” Merlin said, repeating Arthur. “She never stood with Uther, her dislike of Morgana was personal and she doesn’t have a bad history with magic.”

“She’s in the same position as Guinevere, a widow queen holding a throne despite the views of men. She’d be a good ally to have, a strong one.” Arthur tried to talk about Gwen, rather than to her. That way it felt more like he was talking just to Merlin, rather than trying to talk to them both.

“She’s likely to offer you help, she’s been where you are,” Merlin said, putting it a bit more delicately than Arthur had.

“Yes, because Arthur killed her husband,” Gwen reminded him, doubt creeping into her voice. “Would it be a good idea to remind her of that?”

“She made her peace with Arthur, she knew he regretted his actions and that he wouldn’t have acted the way he did if he was not being pressed upon by Agravaine,” Merlin said, unprompted. Arthur was impressed with Merlin’s quick response, that hadn’t been something that had come up in their discussion.

“Perhaps,” Gwen said, not convinced.

“Ask, at least. Write to her, offer her generous terms,” Arthur paused, knowing he’d given Annis all he could last time he’d treated with her. “Offer shared trade routes, shared border patrols. Let her know Camelot’s army will aid her should she ever need it.”

Merlin repeated Arthur’s suggestion and Gwen raised her eyebrows. It wasn’t usual for anyone but the ruler to decide on terms but she didn’t challenge him, Arthur was glad to see.

“And if the war does come, what can we ask of them in return?” Gwen asked, knowing there was no point in making promises she couldn’t keep and she couldn’t deliver on anything if Camelot was defeated.

“Their public support,” Arthur started, prompting Merlin to continue the list of demands Arthur had put forward before.

“If we are threatened, Caerleon would offer their support, publically so that we don’t look like an easy target. Should that not be enough and war does come, Caerleon would have to offer sanctuary for any Camelot citizen that lived closer to her borders than the citadel. If we go into siege, she would also act as a safe route for trade, ensuring we don’t starve within our walls. If we are to do battle instead, she would come to our aid with her army and our enemy would have to fight on two fronts,” Merlin paused, coughing nervously and Arthur nodded, letting him know he was doing just fine. “She would block any attempts to cross her lands in order to get to us and should it become absolutely necessary, she would offer you sanctuary if Camelot fell.”

“That’s a lot to ask,” Gwen said, more doubtful than Arthur had banked on her being.

“She won’t know unless she asks. Annis is a good queen and a good woman but she’s not going to give us help unless we ask for it. That’s how she works.” Arthur said, leaning over the map. “No harm could come from asking Godwyn or Rodor either, try to convince him that this isn’t about magic, it’s about Camelot.”

Merlin repeated Arthur’s words to Gwen and she finally conceded that no harm could come from trying.

“Will she do it, do you think?” Merlin asked once they had left the council chambers.

“She will. She’ll discuss negotiations with Leon first, make sure that she’s asking just enough but not too much but she will ask. She would have advised me to do the same,” Arthur said, sure that Gwen’s doubts were the same as Merlin’s, she knew what she needed to do, she just needed someone to tell her it was the right course of action. He’d been the same way, to his downfall almost, with Agravaine.

“I should-” Merlin gestured down the corridor. “There are jobs I have to do.”

“Of course,” Arthur said, hesitating, not sure what he should do. “Would you like me to come with you?”

“You probably shouldn’t, just in case I forget and start talking to you. People already think I’m strange enough as it is, what with the magic. Though I’m sure they thought I was strange before that.” Merlin smiled to himself. “Besides, you’d only be bored.”

Arthur nodded, it hurt that Merlin would think that but he accepted Merlin’s wishes. “I’ll go over the maps again then. Perhaps I can work out where the axe will fall from.”

“Yes, that’d be a great help,” Merlin said, although Arthur knew it would be pointless. There were too many reasons, too many threats. It would be like predicting which leaf would fall first from a tree at the start of autumn.

-x-

It was long after dark and Merlin still hadn’t returned. Without him there, Arthur was frozen. A servant had come in to start a fire in the grate but he felt none of its warmth. It was almost like the warmth he’d felt in the morning and after that, in Merlin’s embrace, had just drawn focus on the lack of it when he wasn’t there.

Arthur ran the risks and pulled back Merlin’s bed covers, stripping to the waist and climbing under them, finding some heat in the places where he’d known Merlin had been. He closed his eyes, basking in the mild relief from the numbing cold and the warm haze that the day had become. It was complicated as all hell but it seemed oddly freeing, knowing that all the confines of their lives before could be dropped. He was no longer king; Merlin was no longer a servant. They didn’t have to constantly lie to each other anymore.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the door open. “Arthur?”

Arthur opened his eyes, his heart stopping for a moment, starting again when he realised it was only Merlin and stuttering when he realised how this must look to him.

“What are you doing?”

“I, erm, it’s a body heat thing, I swear,” Arthur said, sitting up. “It’s part of the being dead thing, I think. It’s not so bad in daylight but at night, the only thing that stops me freezing to death- you know what I mean- is... well, you.”

“Right.” Merlin nodded and shut the door behind him. “Makes sense.”

“Does it?” Arthur asked, cursing the fact that it didn’t make any sense to him.

“I didn’t look back at Nameton,” Merlin explained. “It must have been my magic, I must have brought you back purely because I could. If that makes sense.”

“None whatsoever, but my knowledge of magic is fairly limited to the darker aspects,” Arthur admitted, not sure he wanted to start walking that line tonight.

“I’m only guessing myself,” Merlin shrugged before pulling off his shirt, casual as anything. “Imagine it like this: I tied a rope around you and used it to pull you back with me. There’s only so much rope and if it gets pulled too far, it would make sense there’d be some side effects. Better?”

“Yes, I suppose,” Arthur tried to imagine it but his mind would only let him imagine what had actually happened, what had actually connected them. “You’re fine with this then?”

“Sharing a bed with you? Trust me, I’ve done worse for you over the years and it was me that brought you back. If this is the price I pay, I shall find it within myself to endure it,” Merlin smiled, letting Arthur in on the fact that he was joking. His fingers went to the laces on his breeches and Arthur averted his eyes only to have them drawn back by Merlin’s voice. “Which is for the best seeing as you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

Arthur glared at him, the stare that he’d not had to use in all the time he’d been unseen. He kept his stare firmly locked with Merlin’s eyes, even though he could tell by his movements that he’d parted from his breeches, leaving only his smallclothes.

Merlin pulled back the covers on the empty side and paused. “How did you manage before I knew?”

Arthur could feel the blush rising in his cheeks. This was another one of those questions he didn’t really want to be asked. “I got as close as I could manage, it was easy enough before we got back here. Last night I stayed on top of the covers, on the side you don’t use.”

“Ah yes, where I found you this morning,” Merlin smiled and got under the covers himself, not even mentioning his state of undress.

“You usually wear bedclothes,” Arthur reminded him.

“I thought you needed the body heat?”

“I don’t need you freezing as well,” Arthur joked, his heartbeat picking up speed.

“I’ll be fine; it’s you I’m worried about,” Merlin replied, moving as close to Arthur as he could without outright touching him. “Like this?”

“No, like how you usually sleep, on your side.” Arthur cleared his throat, his voice catching in it. “Yes, like that,” Arthur finished belatedly, faced with the expanse of Merlin’s back. He cleared his throat again. “Like that.”

“Do you need to be touching me?” Merlin asked, sounding calmer than he had any right to at the prospect. “It’s fine if you do.”

“I can’t,” Arthur said, drawing in a breath, hating his limitations. But gods if he didn’t want to feel that fire that came with those small touches. The burning that had come with something as simple as holding his hand.

“What about this morning?” Merlin asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“I don’t know how that happened. I think it was more you than me. Perhaps because you believed I was there...”

“I believe you’re here now.” Merlin laughed under his breath. “I mean, you _are_ here now, I know it. I can try.”

“You don’t have to, I’ll be alright,” Arthur said, nerves rising like they never used to in Merlin’s presence. Not unless there was a battle to be won.

“Look, Arthur, this isn’t... this has nothing to do with my feelings. I really am worried. If it’s only my magic keeping you here, then I have to do everything in my power to help it. So _stop being such a girl_ , as you would say, and try.”

Merlin rolled half onto his back, finding Arthur’s hand and grasping it, sending comforting warmth through Arthur. He let himself be pulled by the wrist into Merlin’s back, his chest flush against it. He let his hand be placed on Merlin’s chest, over his heart and sparks flew up his arm, like flints striking each other.

He felt Merlin’s chest rise and hold, falling after a few beats. He’d held his breath. He felt it too. Arthur could feel the pulse of Merlin’s heart, stronger than his own. He could feel whatever it was, magic or sheer force of will, he could feel it humming under Merlin’s skin. Gods, he really was on the end of some thread Merlin had woven between them, he could almost feel it pull them tighter, closer together.

-x-

 

**Now wait, wait, wait for me,**  
**Please hang around.**  
**I'll see you when I fall asleep.**

 

-x-

Arthur had been lying peacefully, not asleep, not quite but still, thinking. He had drifted from Merlin, just slightest distance so that when Merlin woke, he wouldn't have to disentangle himself from a ghost he couldn't see.

The potion Merlin took lasted a day at best, until he slept, then he'd have to take more, each and every morning. He had made it himself, the day before as one of his _jobs_ , guessing at the doses and experimenting until he got it right and made a batch of it, enough so that he didn't need to admit what they were doing to Gaius.

Arthur was sure they'd made the right choice in keeping it to themselves. Gaius would not understand, he wanted Merlin to move on and Gwen, she was doing just fine on her own, she didn't need him to upset the life she'd made without him. The knights were doing equally well under Leon's command and the rest of Camelot barely needed him. Despite the threat of war based on the allusions of weakness, he knew Camelot wasn’t weak at all; it was just as strong under Gwen’s leadership as it had been in the years of his reign and his father’s before him.

There was a furious hammering on the door and for a moment, Arthur nearly forgot himself and called out for the messenger to enter. Perhaps he’d gotten a little _too_ comfortable. The knocking sounded urgent, worrying Arthur, it would not do for a servant to walk in and see Merlin abed with the shape of another man, the space he displaced under Merlin’s covers, even if they could not see whom it was. In fact, thinking about it, that would lead to more questions than if he’d simply been abed with someone they could see. Arthur pressed himself into Merlin’s back, almost hoping to melt into him but Merlin stayed impractically solid for once. Arthur moulded himself to Merlin’s body, his knees fitting into the hollow behind Merlin’s, his arm wrapping around Merlin’s chest until there wasn’t an inch between them.

Merlin woke with a start, the cold ghostly touch so unexpected that he swore and took a breath in sharply. “Gods, Arthur, what are you doing?”

Arthur tightened his grip, knowing Merlin could neither hear him or see him, he could only feel him and that was the only answer he could give. The knocking started up again this time with several shouts of _my lord_ and Merlin turned his head, closer that he had ever been to Arthur but not knowing it. “Oh, right, thanks.”

Arthur let his grip soften, the immediate danger of them being walked in on while Merlin lay vulnerable passed but he couldn’t get his heart to lessen its thumping. It was the danger, he told himself, just the fear of being caught. Merlin pulled away from him, throwing the covers off them both so that Arthur’s presence in the bed could go unnoticed and then he headed for the door, not even stopping for breeches or a shirt. Arthur tried not to watch him walk or watch him stand just behind the door, the wood covering most of his body from the servant but not from him. His heart did nothing to hint that it would slow down any time soon.

Merlin said something Arthur didn’t quite catch and closed the door before turning to Arthur, shivering and pale, like Arthur hadn’t seen him in a long time.

“The Saxons have joined with Odin; I always thought it would be him. The peace he’d held with you was only out of fear that you’d change your mind and raze Meredor to the ground. He might not see Gwen as such a threat, especially since word got out that I’m advising her. Nobody looks at me and thinks strength.” Merlin glanced around. “Are you still there? Hold on.”

Merlin strode over to the cabinet that held a number of magical supplies, selecting a bottle of the potion that allowed him to see Arthur and downing it in a gulp.

“Odin does not think you’re weak, Merlin. Nobody does. I think it’s only your presence here as Camelot’s sorcerer, that’s kept them all from invading,” Arthur said, as soon as he was sure he would be heard.

“Please, the druids may have some misplaced reverence of my powers but I doubt any true warrior does. They respect blood and steel and horsemanship. They don’t respect me for running about and tripping people up using magic.”

“It doesn’t matter what Odin thinks, I know you and Guinevere are more than capable. I believe in you,” Arthur said and then coughed. “I believe in you both.”

Merlin smiled and some of the tension seemed to leave him.

“Or I would if you were wearing trousers.”

"Alright, I'm getting dressed. You could do with taking some of your own advice, if you plan on coming too," Merlin pointed out and Arthur had to concede, he did have a point.

"It doesn't matter what I wear, nobody can see me," Arthur said but leaned over the bed and picked up his clothes nonetheless, leaving the mail and armour where it had remained untouched since his first night back in Camelot. It was of no use to him now.

"Yes but _I_ can see you and I'm pretty sure my full attention will be needed for this meeting," Merlin joked but the air grew thick, awkward when Merlin realised what he'd said.

Arthur glanced up from his shirt, not sure whether to pretend nothing had been said or whether that would draw further attention to it. He decided to change the subject, not sure he even could address what Merlin had said. Arthur searched for something to say, to distract them and drew a blank. Instead he pretended his clothing needed all of his attention.

"Do you think she'll choose siege or open battle?" Merlin asked, breaking the silence that had weighed down on them.

"Siege, that's what she's been preparing for. I think open battle would be-" Arthur broke off, not sure he should say it, even though surely his death wasn't as delicate a subject when he was sitting there, nearly living.

"Too soon? Perhaps," Merlin considers. "Or perhaps she doesn't want to risk lives now that she-" Merlin broke off in the same way, leaving Arthur to piece together the end of what he would have said.

"Not now she's lost everyone," Arthur said, cold and disconnected from the words, like he wasn't one of those that Gwen had lost.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said, like it was somehow his fault. Arthur ignored the apology because he couldn't acknowledge it, he refused to accept it.

"If we're going to siege, she'll need to pull in an early harvest and offer sanctuary to any villages that want it, the Saxons won't be above burning their way to the citadel," he said, glad that he would finally be put to use.

"I know, she'll know as well," Merlin assured him. "Arthur, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just... battle nerves, I suppose," Arthur lied, not wanting to admit the truth.

"You do know however this battle goes down; you won't be in any danger?" Merlin asked, coming back to the edge of the bed to sit.

"I won't be?" Arthur asked, Merlin's question catching him off guard.

"No, you-" Merlin paused, as if the right words eluded him. "You won't be able to fight, Arthur, you're - well, you're a ghost, aren't you?" Merlin smiled weakly and Arthur knew he was trying his best. "So, no harm can come to you, you don't have to worry."

"What about you?" Arthur asked, the words coming out before he could stop them.

"Me? I'll be alright, I can trip them up using magic, remember?" Merlin joked but Arthur wasn't reassured.

"You'll be a target, now that they know who you are," Arthur said because he didn't want to say _what you are_.

"I'll look after myself, I promise," Merlin said and for a second their eyes held each other, unable to look away. For a moment he was sure Merlin would say something or do something. He waited on it, not sure what he could say in return, not sure what he'd do. But Merlin didn't put him in that position.

"Come on, the council will be waiting on us," Merlin said, standing and walking back towards the door, holding it open and waiting for him.

Arthur got up slowly, trying to settle his mind and his nerves and trying to ignore the tinge of disappointment he felt.

-x-

The meeting turned out to be much smaller and much shorter than Arthur imagined it would be. Gwen sat at the head of the table, with Merlin and Leon to her left and right, respectively. Arthur was stood behind Merlin, trying his best not to distract him too much. Gaius was on Leon's side, a place he'd certainly earned over the years and Percival was to Merlin's side.

Everyone seemed to know what was coming.

"Sir Percival," Gwen said, deferring to him as he'd been the bringer of the news.

Percival turned the nearest map of Camelot towards the rest of them. "A score of us were patrolling the western borders, here, approaching Odin's lands, when we noticed great amounts of smoke coming from a camp just over the border. Naturally, we investigated in order to offer our assistance, thinking the peace with Odin still stood. The smoke was a camp, certainly, ten thousand strong, mostly Saxons we chased off at Camlann." Percival swallowed and glanced at Gwen. She nodded for him to continue. "We were outnumbered and easy prey. To stop word getting out they hunted us down. So far as I know, no others escaped."

Merlin winced and placed a hand on Percival's shoulder, squeezing hard, surprising Arthur more than anybody else.

"Thank you, Percival," Gwen said with a gentle smile, dispensing with formalities to show she cared. She turned to the maps herself, a sharpened nail scratching out the quickest path. "That was three nights ago, no doubt they would be anxious to ride out as soon as they realised they were known. An army that size, walking as the crow flies, in fair weather... how long would they take?" she asked, turning to Leon.

"A week, perhaps five days if they march into the night," Leon answered her.

"So we could have as little as two days to prepare," Gwen reiterated.

"As little as that?" Arthur said, leaning past Merlin, his hands on the back of Merlin's chair so that he could study the map himself. They were right, of course but Merlin repeated his question anyway.

"I'm afraid so, Merlin, unless there is anything you could do to hamper their progress?" Gwen asked him.

"You mean _can I make it rain_?” Merlin asked, joking but Gwen shrugged, taking him seriously. “Briefly maybe, if I were with them. I think if I tried now I would just make it worse for us here." Merlin shrugged and Gwen nodded, dismissing the idea. "In the short amount of time, I'm not sure there's anything magical I can do to help. I could call a dragon perhaps but I'm not sure I could control her enough to be safe."

"Morgana's dragon?" Gwen asked and Arthur looked down at Merlin dumbfounded again by how much he hadn't known about Merlin, still didn't.

"Aithusa, yes." Merlin nodded. "She was bound to Morgana and while I was able to command her away, I never commanded her to do my will. I'm not sure I could, especially given what I did to her mistress."

"Better not to risk it," Gwen decided. "Perhaps you could aid Gaius, tend to the injured."

"You intend to fight then?" Merlin asked and Gwen inclined her head.

"We do not have the time to adequately prepare for a siege. The people outside the city, even if they started walking now, not all of them would make it in time. If we can keep the enemy entertained in battle, they should not have the time for sport," Leon said, speaking for her with an ease that suggested they'd talked at length about it. Arthur tried not to begrudge Leon command, especially as he would have chosen the same course.

"Do we have the men?" Arthur asked, knowing they must have lost many at Camlann. Merlin repeated the question for him.

"We have enough to fight for a day, perhaps two but we've sent to Caerleon for reinforcements, we can only hope the plea for an alliance reaches Queen Annis in time," Leon answered.

Arthur nodded and put his hand on Merlin's shoulder, without thinking. He'd be safe, inside, with Gaius.

"Your highness, would I not be best used on the front line?" Merlin asked, as if he could read Arthur's mind. Arthur squeezed Merlin's shoulder, a warning, a plea for him not to fight.

"Merlin, this isn't the small skirmishes we've faced on patrols before nor is it the training ground," Leon said harshly but with a tone that suggested he was trying to keep him out of harm's way, Arthur could forgive him for that. Gwen however shot him a look and he softened. "What I mean is, you've not seen battle before. It's not pleasant."

"Leon's right, Merlin, it's not somewhere you choose to be," Percival agreed.

Arthur could feel Merlin tense under his hand and he squeezed again, not daring to speak because he agreed but he knew Merlin needed support from somewhere.

"I have seen battles, lots of them. Or do you forget, I was at Camlann, I saw the worst of it, I killed every man within reach of our frontline," Merlin let out a breath, harsh and shallow. "I took down Agravaine and his host of Saxons. I've fought every battle, every single one, from within the city walls or from the shadows." Another breath, all eyes were downcast now, he'd gotten his point across. "Just because I don't fight with a sword, it doesn't mean I don't fight. I never left Arthur's side while I could fight for him and I'm not going to stop fighting for Camelot now."

Arthur smiled, proud of him, proud to have had such loyalty, to still have such loyalty. But he still didn't want Merlin to fight. To his surprise, Merlin's hand came up to rest in his own for a second. To anyone who noticed, it would seem like he was holding his own shoulder but Arthur knew it was a bold gesture and he appreciated it.

There was silence for a few beats before Gwen spoke. "I'll have Leon find you a sword and some mail. Just because you don't use a sword, it doesn't mean the enemy won't try and use one on you."

Merlin nodded. "If I can't help you further, might I be excused?"

"Of course," Gwen bowed her head, formally excusing him.

Arthur took his hand off Merlin's shoulder, giving him room to push his chair out and leave. Arthur followed him, quite surprised when Percival followed him too. They all stopped outside the doors.

"I didn't mean to imply that you weren't capable or strong, I know you are. Brave too, braver than half the knights but is it a good idea, after Camlann?" Percival asked him, putting his hand on Merlin's shoulder just like Arthur had done himself moments ago.

Arthur tried not to stand there like a third wheel but something in him, something petty, didn't want to leave Merlin with Percival, not when they seemed to be so familiar. Arthur had been gone nearly a year by Merlin’s reckoning. As a result, he realised he knew nothing of Merlin's relationships with others and he found he didn't like seeing it now.

"I'll be fine," Merlin assured Percival. "I can't stop now but I'd say you need a drink after what you've been through, tavern later?"

"Sure," Percival agreed with a warm smile. Arthur frowned.

He waited for Merlin to start walking before he started talking, meaning to bring the issue of fighting up first but not quite succeeding.

"Percival seems to have come out of himself," Arthur said casually, or what he hoped was casually."I didn't know you two were close."

Merlin looked at him sideways, trying not to draw attention to himself even if it was still early.

"I just thought maybe you'd like to use tonight more wisely. Planning the coming battle perhaps? Rather than taking Percival out."

"I'm not taking him out," Merlin said under his breath, looking around him to make sure nobody could hear him.

"Have you invited anyone else?" Arthur asked, casual turning into argumentative.

"No, in case you hadn't noticed, both me and him don't exactly have many friends left," Merlin said as they approached the stairs.

"So there's nothing more to it then?" Arthur asked, as they ascended the stairs, argumentative turning into irrational. He took comfort in the fact that at least he realised he was being ridiculous.

"What more could there- wait," Merlin turned, taking the stairs backwards when Arthur didn't stop. "Are you jealous?"

"Of course I'm not, why would I be jealous?"Arthur said, his brain catching up with his mouth and rapidly trying to backtrack. "Do what you like, I don't care."

"That's very generous of you," Merlin said, turning at the top of the stairs and walking normally again. "If you don't care, why did you say anything?"

"I told you, in two days time an army of ten thousand will be at our walls. Is getting drunk going to be the best use of your time?"

Merlin sighed and pulled open his door, gesturing Arthur inside. "I'm not doing it for me, I'm doing it for Percival- no, don't start again, I'm doing it as a friend." Merlin sat down on his bed but Arthur stayed standing. "He doesn't have anyone else and he's just come back from a slaughter. He's only recently been put back on patrols because he didn't feel right being without Gwaine and look what happens. Why do you think he said what he did about me fighting and Camlann? He knows I know what it's like to watch someone you-" Merlin broke off, sighing again. "I'm all he's got, the only one who _knows_ how it feels, alright?"

"Alright," Arthur gave in, guessing at what Merlin wasn't saying. "Until then..."

"Until then I'm all yours," Merlin said, too distracted to frown at his choice of phrase like he usually did. "Teach me front line battle decorum."

-x-

There was no such thing as battle decorum but Arthur spent the rest of the day teaching Merlin how best not to die in battle. He taught him all the dirty tricks that might be used against him and advised on some that he might use himself. He taught him, for what had to be the hundredth time over the years, how to handle a sword. And now, he did something he never thought he would, he pored over magic books, looking for spells that would knock any enemy for six while Merlin gave Percival the apparently necessary comfort he needed.

In truth, Arthur itched for his own sword, he longed for something he could do himself. And he tried his best to convince himself that it had nothing to do with the Percival thing. Although he had to admit, he spent more time looking out of the window than he did at the book.

He pushed his chair back and closed the book with a sigh. This wasn’t his strong point. His strong point was tactics and formations. He longed to go over Gwen’s plan again, just to be certain. But she would be going over her plans with Leon instead; Merlin had told him so much when Arthur had asked if they could not do that instead of him going to the tavern.

When Merlin said no, he’d asked if he could at least come to the tavern as well but Merlin gave him one of those annoying looks that said he saw right through him and said no again. So he’d been left here to uselessly do nothing. He itched to do something.

Perhaps if he was really careful and really quiet, he could sneak into his old rooms and listen in on Gwen and Leon’s strategy meeting, even if he couldn’t participate in it himself. He pushed the chair back further and stood, knowing that Merlin would tell him it was a bad idea and dismissing the thought. Merlin had gone to the tavern, bugger what Merlin would think.

He crept out of the room, glad that Merlin’s door was one of the few that lacked guards on it these days. Guinevere’s room would not be so easy. He walked down the empty corridor, it was well into the night and everyone was either abed or kept awake by the coming war but nobody had taken to pacing the hallways, he was glad to note.

To his surprise Gwen’s room was not guarded. But then, perhaps if she was with Leon, she didn’t feel the need for guards. Or perhaps she had dismissed them so they themselves could prepare for war. Arthur pressed his hand to the door, concern for her safety still ruling his head despite the reasonable explanations for the lack of guard.

The door was heavy but unlocked and he’d snuck through them enough times when they were the doors to his chamber to know how to push them without making a sound.

He’d expected to find Guinevere abed or perhaps leaning over a map with Leon. What he didn’t expect was to find her by the window, looking out at Camelot like he had a hundred times, with uncertainty in her eyes.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she said and Arthur smiled sadly, he’d felt the very same way when his leadership was first tested. “I know I said I could but it’s not been a full year since-”

“If you’re not ready, we could postpone,” Leon said approaching the window and Guinevere, his voice surprising Arthur even though he knew Gwen had to be talking to someone. Leon’s words surprised him too, was this war some feint? How could it be put off?

“No, I said tomorrow, before the battle,” Gwen turned to him, tears in her eyes too. “Just in case the worst should happen, I don’t want you riding off as only a knight and not coming back.”

Arthur frowned, entirely lost by Gwen’s words and confused by her tears. Maybe it had been only a year but he’d been sure she’d moved on. Perhaps, like with Merlin and Percival, this coming battle had stirred the memories of Camlann. She had been there too, he remembered.

“What people know and don’t know doesn’t matter to me, you know that,” Leon said, his hands finding their place on Gwen’s waist. “You know I love you and there is nothing more I need than to know it’s returned.”

Arthur was aware of his mouth falling open. He’d always know Leon had been close with Gwen, even as children but he was sure they’d drifted apart since then. How could he, even in his position as head knight, how could he put such a pressure on Gwen now? It was unthinkable to trouble her with silly things like feelings on the edge of a battle. Not to mention the fact that he’d be distracted throughout the fight when his love wasn’t returned or worse, he’d be driven to do something stupid to prove his love.

Arthur watched helplessly, sure of all those things, sure that Gwen was about to let him down gently, as she turned her head to meet his eyes.

“Of course, my love, you know it’s returned.” She leaned forward and Arthur realised what she was leaning into, Leon, Leon’s lips, a kiss.

He watched, feeling akin to how he’d felt in the interim. Hollow, transparent, barely there.

“I just fear the people would not understand, they would feel I’ve abandoned my king,” Gwen took in a breath and Arthur watched, empty, as tears fell in earnest from Gwen’s eyes. “I haven’t. I loved Arthur with all my heart but he’s gone. I can’t keep pretending he hasn’t. He wouldn’t want that. He wouldn’t want me to linger in misery.”

Arthur breathed, some feeling returning to him but it wasn’t a feeling he liked. It wasn’t a feeling he understood. He didn’t feel anger burn in him like fire. Gwen hadn’t cheated, she hadn’t. All she did was love another, move on like he had hoped she had.

It all seemed very simple, too simple. She was a widow. He wasn’t her husband anymore. He was dead. He was gone. He’d been replaced in all matters now, as ruler and in love. He was dead. And by gods, did he feel it.

He stepped back, letting the door close naturally. He hadn’t barely stepped inside. He had no right to. Those weren’t his rooms anymore. She wasn’t his wife anymore.

He walked back down the hallway, slowly, not sure whether he should go back to Merlin’s room and risk brooding over it or use his time to do something more useful and more distracting, like check the perimeters for possible breaches.

His choice was made for him when he saw movement outside Merlin’s door. He melted into the shadows instinctively, just in case it was an enemy. Not that they would see him, he could dance in front of them and they wouldn’t see him. Nobody would.

But when the movement got closer, he remembered that wasn’t quite true. It was Merlin and Merlin would see him. Percival was with him even though Percival’s rooms were on the other side of the castle. He soon saw the reason for this when Merlin giggled, fumbling with the door. So much for being restrained in the light of the oncoming battle, Arthur thought to himself.

He kept to the shadows, not wanting Merlin to think he was spying, having had just about enough of spying already. But he watched, telling himself he was concerned for Merlin. He couldn’t hear what Percival was saying but Merlin kept laughing then shushing himself as though he knew Arthur was listening with disapproval.

He did disapprove, even though he’d left Merlin in worse states of inebriation before but he was sure the bad feeling was because he hadn’t seen Merlin laugh like that in a long time, not since he had returned. He was always watching what he was saying, making sure he didn’t bring up his feelings. With Percival, seemingly so far in his cups Arthur was surprised he even could walk, he seemed almost like the Merlin he’d known before he died. And he was sure that wasn’t a good thing. Rather, it was good that he was having fun with Percival but the implication of that was...he was miserable with him.

Arthur sighed, leaning back against the wall as Merlin leaned back against the door, seemingly wishing Percival a good night. He wasn’t spying, he told himself, he was just waiting for Percival to go so that he could go to bed. The last quarter of an hour had thoroughly exhausted him. He closed his eyes for a moment and then let them flutter open, unfocused for a second before he realised what he was seeing. Again, for the second time within an hour, he was watching someone lean into somebody else, into their body, into a kiss. And that someone, unbelievably, was Merlin.

This time he did feel something. Something that felt like all his bones were trying to move forward and swing for Percival but his body was rooted to the floor. He wasn’t angry, he was furious. How dare anybody take advantage of Merlin like that, in the state he was in? And what was worse, he’d known something like this would happen, from the moment they arranged to go out drinking. What with Merlin’s recent admittance that he had loved him all these years and all the whispers about Percival and Gwaine, it had seemed the only two people who didn’t know how they had felt had been Gwaine and Percival themselves. It only made sense with Gwaine gone and him barely there, unable to be with Merlin how he wanted him to be, unable to admit that he wanted to be, it only made sense that they should find some form of solace with each other. Just like Gwen had with Leon. But Merlin had no right to move on, not really, not when he knew that he was right there. Gods, he was only a few paces away. He was right there.

He watched unhearing as Merlin said something, serious, not laughing now. Percival nodded and turned away, walking until he passed Arthur. He tried not to feel a twisted pleasure at the fact whatever Percival had tried had not been successful. But Merlin was watching him go and Arthur didn’t like it, it made it seem like he was still attached to him somehow. Arthur kept himself pressed against the wall, trusting Merlin wouldn’t see him in the state he was in.

There was no desperation in his look. There were no tears in his eyes. He wasn’t burning or drowning or embodying any other metaphor Arthur had used to describe the kiss Merlin had given him. He was calm, peaceful. There was nothing dangerous in the air. It was like a proper kiss, a thought out kiss, a kiss that was appropriate for someone beloved. It wasn’t some rushed, impulsive kiss taken back with every breath since it had happened. It was what he wanted. Fuck.

Merlin finally opened the door and stumbled through it, shutting him out. Arthur wanted to follow him but he held himself back for a moment longer. He knew he wouldn’t be able to pretend he hadn’t seen, he needed to understand, get a reason for the things he’d witnessed, the reactions they’d provoked. But he knew the first things out of his mouth would not be things he wanted to say, so he waited for a moment, staring at the stone wall across from him, working out what he was going to say.

-x-

More than a few moments passed but when Arthur approached the door he was calm, collected. He could think clearly as he pulled it open. Stepping through it, he knew what he was going to say. And then he saw Merlin, spread over his bed where Arthur would have wagered he'd fallen and it all went to hell. Words deserted him. All he was left with was a horrible clawing feeling, like a creature was trying to escape his skin.

"Where'd you go?" Merlin asked, sitting up and doing what Arthur could only hope was his best impression of a sobriety.

"Nowhere," Arthur said, surprising himself with how low and even his tone was. "How was the tavern?"

"Appalling, ran out of ale, had to make do with what they had and you'd think they were trying to kill somebody with it." Merlin swayed slightly but still made an effort to stand.

"That's your excuse, is it?" Arthur asked, putting a hand over Merlin's shoulder and steering him back to the bed. "Sit down before you fall down."

"My excuse?" Merlin looked up at him, his vision clearing. "Oh yes, sorry, I said I'd only have a few."

"And you had a few dozen instead, so I see." Arthur shook his head. "But that's not what I meant."

"What'd'you mean then?" Merlin asked, his attention slipping and his words falling into each other.

Arthur paused, thinking about it, trying not to let himself be taken in by Merlin's bewildered expression. "Nothing," he said finally, losing.

"No, something. I can see it, there in your eyes. You never have been able to hide things from me." Merlin leaned up, his hand touching Arthur's cheek, his thumb caressing his cheekbone and his eyes, it was almost like he was looking straight into his mind.

"You saw," Merlin told him with a sigh, dropping his hand. He almost sounded disappointed, like it was him that had been wronged.

"I don't know what you mean,” Arthur said, turning away. If there was going to be an argument, it would be on his terms and he'd be the one acting disappointed. He couldn't fight with Merlin like this, there was no point.

"Are you angry?" Merlin asked, not taking the hint.

"It depends," Arthur decided.

"On what?"

Arthur paused again, knowing that once all this was said, it couldn't be taken back. "Did he kiss you or... did you kiss him?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, of course it matters, if you kissed him then-" Arthur cut himself off, realising how childish the next few words out of his mouth would have been. Only a few minutes ago he was happy Gwen was moving on, why could he not feel the same for Merlin? "No, it doesn't matter."

"It does, I don't understand it but I'm not stupid, Arthur, I can see you're just dying to say something. Whatever it is, say it," Merlin gestured towards Arthur but when he didn't say anything, he prompted him again. " _If I kissed him then..._ "

"Then what about me?" The words rushed out and he couldn't stop them, the opposite of how he'd felt watching Merlin kiss Percival.

"What does it have to do with you?" Merlin asked but there was no nastiness to his voice, he wasn't mad that Arthur had invaded his privacy. He just couldn't seem to connect the two things.

But Arthur wouldn't say it, he wouldn't help him, he just stared down at him, angry at himself because for all he wanted to be angry with Merlin, for all he had been angry with him, now he was just scared.

"Oh," Merlin said, the realisation finally dawning on him. "It wasn't like that. It wasn't like... you."

"Yes, I could see that," Arthur said, the bitter twinge he felt creeping into his voice. "Go to bed, I don't want to talk about it and you're in no state to."

"Don’t be like that," Merlin persevered, ignoring Arthur's wishes. "It doesn't change how I feel about you, I assure you. It was... it's just hard, not being able to... he knows alright, he knows how I feel about you, or how I felt because to everyone but me, you're dead and it's really hard to keep nodding and smiling when they tell me you're dead and I should move on." Merlin stood, sobered by something. "Because you're not, you're right here, right in front of me, you sleep in my bed for the love of the gods but even though you're here, even though you know now, you still- there will never be anything more I can do, this is it, this is all I have. I have nothing outside of you. You're it. My whole life. Since the moment I set foot in Camelot."

Merlin sighed, the fight fading from him. "But everyone expects me to have more. They expect me to move on. They don't understand that I couldn't, even if you were dead still. They think I was just a servant and you were just a king. They don't understand I had nothing else and now I have nothing."

"You have me still, as you said, I'm right here," Arthur said, not trusting himself to say anything further.

"No, I don't. Camelot has you. I know that's why you stayed. And tomorrow, the day after, the war will come and Camelot's fate will be decided. We will either fall or we won't but either way, it will be settled. Why else would you want to stay? You said it yourself, even you want me to move on." Merlin turned away and Arthur caught his arm, acting before he'd thought it through.

"Is that what you think?" Arthur said, anger rising again because gods, that couldn't be farther from what he wanted. Those were the very fears he was having. He might have said it, long ago, before all this but the idea of Merlin moving on, seeing it happen, felt worse that the sword Mordred had stuck in his gut.

Arthur swallowed, unable to communicate that. All he could think about was pushing Merlin back, proving him wrong. All he could think about was his lips and how gently they'd kissed someone else and how hard, how violently he wanted to do the same. But he couldn't, even if he ignored all reason, he couldn't risk trying and failing, he couldn’t risk trying and succeeding either. He wrenched himself away. "You really are an idiot, Merlin."

He walked to the door, risking the cold that came when he wasn't with Merlin. He paused, determined to say one thing, even if it was ignored.

"Don't fight in the battle," Arthur said, knowing that the end of that sentence was that he couldn't bear to see Merlin hurt but he couldn't very well say that, not after all they'd said. "Trust me; being dead isn't something I'd wish on anybody."

He pulled the door open and slammed it behind him. He was supposed to be mad at Merlin, that's how it had all started yet it was himself he hated now, pressed against Merlin's door.

-x-

Merlin startled awake, his eyes opening wide. For a moment he thought he’d see Arthur above him, even just for a second. Usually when he was wrenched awake, it was because Arthur was leaning too close, thinking about him too intensely. But Arthur wasn’t there. At least not right in his line of vision. It hadn’t been him that had woken him.

He tried to sit up but the thumping in his head sent him right back down again. He closed his eyes, pressing his hand to his head and vaguely recalling the mess that had been the night before. He stared up, willing the room around him to focus and tried to align the events of last night in his head. He didn’t like what he came back with. He sighed, the last thing he remembered was Arthur walking out. No, the thing he remembered was the way Arthur had looked at him like maybe; just maybe, there was something more to everything that had been said. But whatever it might have been, he didn’t say it, he’d left instead and Merlin wasn’t sure he’d returned.

“Look, Arthur,” Merlin started, his voice sounding closer to the voice he called Kilgharrah with than his regular voice. He coughed and tried again. “Arthur, I don’t know if you’re here or not but that’s how we usually work best, isn’t it?”

Merlin paused, giving Arthur the chance to make himself known if he was there. “Last night, you were right, I was an idiot. I tried to explain it to you but I don’t think I said it right. Actually I’m sure I didn’t because I can’t even remember now why I thought any of it was a good idea.”

Merlin paused again, reaching out to the side where Arthur slept. “Was there something more I should have said?”

When his head let him, he stumbled over to the cabinet, taking the potion and hoping to see Arthur. He wasn’t exactly surprised when he didn’t. He made a note to see Gaius as soon as he was dressed, he couldn’t be attending council meetings and planning a war with a headache this brutal. But a knock came at his door as he was pulling the last of his clothes on and he rushed to open it, hoping that it was Arthur. It wasn’t, it was a summons to the throne room. An urgent one, from Gwen herself. Merlin nodded his agreement, fearing the worst and pulled the door closed behind him.

The throne room was packed but as much as he hated it, the way cleared for him up to the dais as it usually did. Gwen was already there, as was Leon. He climbed the steps and took his place as far in the shadows as he could get away with. Gwen started speaking but he let her voice fade into the background, scanning the crowd instead.

Merlin found Arthur eventually, in the shadows like he was himself but right at the back, between the two great sets of doors. Arthur was staring forcibly at Gwen, almost to the point that it felt like he was doing it just so that he didn’t have to look at him. Merlin sighed and turned his attention back to Gwen, just in time for Leon to take her hand. Merlin gaped, wondering what in the world he’d missed in the last few moments.

For a moment, Merlin thought Leon might actually get on his knees as that seemed to the direction this meeting seemed to be going but instead it was Gwen who spoke.

"It both pleases and saddens me slightly to announce that Sir Leon and I have forged a new alliance, with each other, against the loneliness and loss suffered when this kingdom lost its king, and I, my husband." There was a pause, allowing the people to mutter. "When this darkness passes and Camelot knows peace, we will celebrate that peace as Queen and Royal Consort. I hope you will join us in that celebration."

There was a second of stunned silence and then one person started to clap, followed by another and another until it became applause. Merlin clapped with them, like he had when Arthur had married Gwen but his eyes weren't on her, they were on Arthur.

The people were excused and with much chatter, they filed out. Soon the room was empty aside from him, Gwen, Leon and Arthur, still skulking at the back. Arthur's face betrayed nothing but Merlin remembered how badly he'd taken Gwen's indiscretion with Lancelot, he knew how much Arthur loved her, he owed it to him to argue his case, whatever his case may be.

"Gwen - your highness, sorry - have you thought this through?" Merlin asked and then realised how rude he sounded, like he didn't approve. "I mean, it seems a bit sudden."

"It isn't sudden, Merlin, I assure you. We've given it a lot of thought and discussed it at length. I know what they say: I cannot hold the throne by marriage law alone, not as a widow not without Arthur’s heir. Or that as a woman, I can't make the hard decisions."

Merlin shook his head but Gwen held up her hand. "I know that I can, you know that I can but nobody likes change. That I've learned if nothing else. So, I will acquiesce to marriage, if it gives my people something that they can relate to. However, like Arthur, I will not marry for power or for an army, I will marry for love and the only person I could even begin to feel that way about is Sir Leon, who I've known forever and was always a dear friend. Of late, he's become more than that and he's been there for me when nobody else could be. He's of suitable birth although that means less than nothing to me and he's well loved by the people. He was well loved by Arthur. I don't think there is anything more I can say, only that this is my choice."

Merlin glanced over to the doors, sure Arthur had heard all that Gwen had said by the way he was staring straight ahead, not looking at any of them, pretending he wasn't listening. "What about Arthur?"

"Merlin, Arthur's gone. Nearly a year has passed. I love him still, of course, there will never be a time when I don’t love him still but I have to let him go," Gwen looked over him, that pitying look had grown even stronger. "And so do you."

Merlin felt his act of concern flicker, replaced by some dangerous mixture of loyalty and guilt. The torches flickered around the room and this time he didn't doubt it was his magic. He could see Arthur step forward out of the corner of his eye, watching him. "I am not giving up on him, no matter what anybody says."

"Merlin..." Gwen said, not understanding what he meant because he'd never been able to tell her about his feelings or their destiny. Gods knew what she thought.

He stepped around her and descended the steps, crossing the long room at a fast walk and meeting Arthur in the middle. He expected Arthur to threaten him for losing his temper with Gwen but he stayed silent and fell into step with him.

-x-

"Thank you," Arthur finally said, albeit stiffly, when they were far enough away from the people still straggling.

"No, it was the least I could say after last night. I'm sorry," Merlin glanced sideways at him. "I'm sorry about that too, that you had to find out like that. I had no idea, I swear."

"I did, I knew," Arthur said and Merlin looked at him, stunned. He thought about it, thought what to say. He couldn't very well admit that he was oddly fine with the arrangement. "She's right, she needs to move on."

"And what about me, was she right about that too? Because I don't know what to think anymore, Arthur," Merlin turned a corner and Arthur wondered where he was going and where he was going with this.

"If I'm honest, Merlin, I don't know what to think either and I'd sooner not think about it at all," Arthur said, telling the whole hearted truth. He couldn't think about it, just trying felt worse than anything he'd felt with Guinevere. Everything with her had been certain. He'd known there'd be a day when he could be with her but this, whatever this was that he felt for Merlin, whatever seeds that gods forsaken kiss had planted, he could never say for certain that those seeds would be reaped. He couldn't think about something so uncertain.

Merlin didn't say anything and Arthur couldn't blame him. They walked the rest of the way in silence until they reached Gaius' door.

Once there Arthur stayed on the other side of the door, not wanting to distract Merlin or risk Gaius putting two and two together. But he listened, curious to why Merlin had come to Gaius.

Gaius' voice came through first. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"What, my night in the tavern?" Merlin asked. "Not really."

"Guinevere’s betrothal to Sir Leon," Gaius corrected him and Arthur sighed, he'd hoped that would be laid to rest once he'd admitted he felt nothing against it.

"Why would I? It's nothing to do with me who she courts," Merlin said, sounding defensive.

"That's not what you said to Guinevere," Gaius said back.

"You were eavesdropping?" Merlin asked, his voice sounding surprised.

"I had a prior appointment with her highness and had been asked to wait in the antechamber. You weren't exactly whispering."

"I spoke out of turn, I'll apologise but it changes nothing, I have no feelings about Gwen's martial choices whatsoever." Arthur had known that was true, Merlin had only been speaking on his behalf.

"And what about Arthur, does he have any feelings about it?" Gaius asked and Arthur drew in a breath. Merlin was obviously caught off guard because he didn't immediately plead ignorance, in fact he started answering.

"He says he's fine with it, I'm not sure that I- oh, I..." He heard Merlin sigh. "How long have you known?"

"I've had my suspicions since you came to me the other day. Since then, though you denied having found anything, I noticed certain supplies of mine dwindle along with overhearing comments about your odd behaviour, talking to yourself, for example. You confirmed it this morning, by questioning Guinevere's actions. You said that you'd never give up on him but you didn't say it like he was gone and you were waiting for him to return, you said it as if you were still struggling with him. You said it a lot when he was alive but had lost himself. Is that how he feels now?"

"You got back here quickly," Merlin said, blatantly sidestepping the question.

"You took the long way, for privacy’s sake I assume. You didn't answer my question."

"I didn't answer because I can't," Merlin admitted. "I don't know how he feels; I don't even know how I feel. I thought having him back would make everything better, easier somehow."

"But it hasn't," Gaius said gently and Arthur got the feeling this wasn't the first talk they'd had like this.

"No, it's gotten even more complicated. I said some things, before he returned, that can't be taken back. I thought he'd forgotten about it but apparently he hasn't. I don't know how to make it alright again," Merlin said and Arthur bit his lip, obviously Merlin didn't know he could hear him clearly.

"Perhaps things aren't how they used to be because you're not living that life anymore and neither should Arthur be," Gaius said and Arthur pulled back from the door like he'd been slapped. When he pressed himself close to it again, Gaius was still talking. "He's the Once and Future King, Merlin, perhaps he feels out of place because this isn't his time."

"No," Merlin said, harsh and powerful. It brought the barest stutter to Arthur's heart to hear that Merlin was certain he belonged here but Gaius was not as easily won over.

"Arthur's sacrifice was tragic but-"

"It was not a sacrifice, he was murdered," Merlin interrupted, his voice rising.

"All the same, it was for a reason. Albion will need him again-"

"Camelot needs him now."

"It may seem that was but you have no way of knowing what time may bring. If he is here, living as some spectre, what becomes of his destiny, your destiny?"

"Hang our destiny. All destiny did was get him killed, I'm not losing him again to it if that's what you want," Merlin shouted.

"And what happens when Albion really does need him? When its needs are great, will you tell it that you are Emrys and your needs are greater than that of all the kingdoms united?" Gaius said, as hotly as Merlin had spoken before lowering his tone again. "Merlin, I've known you a long time and I've never known you to act selfishly."

Arthur turned his back on the door, leaning against the wall beside it, taking in everything Gaius had said.

"I'm not being selfish; I'm doing this for the kingdom. He never got to see the Albion that he was supposed to build and maybe that's my fault but I'm fixing it now. He deserved better, Gaius, he was the greatest king this world will ever see, he deserves better than what he got."

"And you are meant to be the greatest sorcerer to live, you should know better than to mess with life and death. Arthur is dead. He should be left in peace..."

If there was more, Arthur didn't hear it, he couldn't hear it. He couldn't hear it because he knew Gaius was right and he didn't want to wait for Merlin to realise it too. He didn't want to have that talk in a corridor because if they were to have that talk, if this was it, he would tell Merlin everything. He had nothing to lose.

-x-

Arthur waited hours for Merlin to return, longer than he had thought it would take him to find him. He was in Merlin's room after all, that should have been the first place he'd come. The sun was high in the sky so he took a seat at Merlin's desk, not needing the warmth of his bed.

When he heard more than one voice, he sighed. He hoped Merlin wasn't with Percival again, everything he planned to say, he wanted to say to Merlin alone and he wanted to say it with a clear head, something seeing Merlin with another would make impossible.

But when the door opened, it wasn't Percival, it wasn't even Merlin. It was Guinevere. Oh gods, they weren't all going to tell him to move on, were they?

But she didn't, she just pulled both doors open and stood, an ashen look on her face.

"Bring him through here, gently," Gaius' voice came through the door, followed by the rest of him.

And then came Merlin and Percival, along with several other knights. Arthur pushed back against table, knocking over the chair in his haste to get up. Nobody noticed though because Percival was carrying Merlin and there was blood everywhere and everyone's attention was drawn to that.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, forgetting himself. "What the hell happened?"

When nobody answered him, he remembered the only person that could see him was Merlin.

They laid Merlin down on the bed and Gaius gestured everyone back. "I'll need space to work, there's nothing further any of you can do."

Arthur stayed where he was while everyone else left. When only he, Gaius and Merlin were left, he approached the bed. He watched as Gaius worked, packing herbs tight over the wound in Merlin's side and bandaging it. When he was done, he walked over to Merlin's desk and picked up the fallen chair, carrying it over to the bedside and setting it down.

"You may as well sit down, sire," Gaius said and gestured to the chair.

Arthur sank down into it, speechless.

"I’m unable see you, so I will presume you have taken my advice," Gaius sat down on the edge of Merlin's bed and addressed the chair. "I saw the chair fall, that's how I know you're here. The rest Merlin told me before he-" Gaius glanced down at Merlin and redirected his speech. "He was found in a corridor, as you see him now. With him was the body of a stranger. We can assume, as we are fighting Odin, that the man was an assassin, sent to deal with Merlin before the battle, hoping that without him, Camelot would be easier to conquer."

Arthur nodded, still staring down at Merlin. He should have seen it coming. He had known Odin would target him above all else. Merlin was the one that would be pivotal to Camelot’s survival now, not him and assassins had always been Odin’s party trick.

"On sight the wound is not fatal, nothing vital has been hit and with proper treatment and rest, it should heal.” Gaius stood up. "I'll leave him in your care for the time being."

Arthur nodded again; he'd panicked when he'd seen all the blood. With a little thought he realised he would not be here still if Merlin was dead. He'd be back to being dead. But then, if Merlin was dead, he would be with him. They would both be there, together. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad with Merlin there. Perhaps they could be together, like Merlin wanted them to be, like he wanted them to be. How much simpler that would be.

Arthur heard the door close behind him and it shocked him out of his thoughts. Gods, what had he been thinking? How could he wish Merlin ill in such a way? After a moment, he’d realised what else he’d been thinking, that he thought the same way that Merlin did. He wanted the same things that Merlin did. He felt the same way Merlin must feel for him and that was love. He loved Merlin. He wasn’t sure why that didn’t shock him more.

He took Merlin's hand, finding it oddly easy. He stood and bent over him, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. He sat back down and took a deep breath. He was going to keep his word; he was going to tell him everything. Not that he'd hear any of it, even if he’d been awake, the potion would have worn off while he was unconscious but he had to do it, he had to get it all out from inside his head. Then, maybe, he could move on. For Merlin’s sake, if not his own.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Merlin.”

When he didn’t get any form of response, not even a twitch, he pushed on. “Do you remember that last time before you brought me back, before you...” Arthur paused, he’d never wanted to say it and admit what had happened out loud. He forced the words to form despite his former inability to admit to his feelings. “Before you kissed me?”

He paused again, as if Merlin would answer. He didn’t, of course, so Arthur decided for him that he did remember. “You told me how you felt. You didn’t mean to but it happened the same way everything seems to happen with you, clumsily yet oddly right. Not that feelings can be wrong or right. But you telling me, that was right.”

Arthur took in a breath, thinking to himself how he was the one with clumsy words now. But he couldn’t make it flow easily. Nothing about this had been easy.

“What I mean is... it finally opened my eyes to the _real_ you. The things I never got to see when I was alive because there was always something else going on. There was always an enemy or a celebration. There was always my father and Morgana and Guinevere. And my duties to Camelot, the knights. You were there every day but I never quite _saw enough_ of you. I think I did sometimes, when you couldn’t help it or when I needed to and I never understood why I never saw that all the time.”

Arthur laughed to himself, humourlessly but not coldly. “That was, of course, because I didn’t know you were lying through your teeth with every other thing you said and those moments were the tiny glimpses of the truth. I know that now. You still do it though. Hide behind the role of my servant, even when you’re more of a leader now that I can be. But there were a few days where you couldn’t see me and I saw everything. It’s a bit funny when you think about it. I was the one lying and hiding things, even from myself.”

Merlin’s eyes moved behind their lids and for a moment, Arthur was worried he’d wake and he’d have to go through his speech with Merlin making smart remarks through it. But he didn’t, he was probably only dreaming.

“Alright, so it’s not that funny then,” Arthur said, seriousness seeping back in. “If we’d done all this back when we’d first met, would we be here now? Would we have come to this conclusion sooner? Would I have?”

There was another pause because Arthur had really wanted an answer to that one. If he’d known Merlin had been so strong, so powerful, would he have been scared of him? Or because he knew that they were both working for the same thing, would Merlin have been that much more than just a servant, just a friend? Could he have lived all those years like the two weeks he’d lived now?

“Gods, you really were an idiot, weren’t you?” Arthur said aloud, hating that he’d never know the answer to all those _what ifs_ and _might have beens_. “And I’m still an idiot.”

Arthur leant back in his chair, a realisation dawning over him, stirred up with all the memories. “I think I did know. Maybe not about your magic or our destiny but I knew there was something about you, something that tied me to you, bound us together like we are now. I remember saying as much. I still can’t quite put my finger on it but I feel it more now, there’s something infuriating about you, that gets under my skin and loges itself in my mind, unable to be ignored but still, I can’t bring myself to stay away from you. I never have been able to, even back then when you were a pain in my arse. I have to now though and I will but it physically hurts me to think it even. But I have to. Because I’ve finally come to the same realisation that you came to, back in the Stones when you kissed me and like I knew I’d get there eventually, I kissed you too. I love you, Merlin, despite my attempts not to. Since that day, it’s become unavoidable and it was all I could do not to say it, not to give myself away. But I can’t go without saying it and because I love you that I have to go. You won’t remember this, you won’t understand why I have to go but you were right. It’s not magic that is dangerous. It’s us.”

-x-

Merlin knew very little for certain. He felt pain, somewhere; he wasn’t quite sure where he just knew it was there. The other thing he was sure of was that he could hear Arthur’s voice. It drifted away and back again, like a tide but it never left completely. At first he wasn’t sure what he was hearing, then the same words kept being said and after a while, he realised it was a deathbed confession. But with Arthur being dead already, that could only mean one thing.

Merlin tried to open his eyes but the effort sent him back into darkness. Darkness but not silence. Arthur’s words kept coming through, more insistently, making more and more sense. The penny dropped. It wasn’t _just_ a deathbed confession, it was a confession of love. Or something like that. The closest Arthur was likely to admit to.

Fuck, he must be dying.

-x-

Arthur left in the night and came back in the morning, two items in his hands, one of which he had sneaked up from the vaults, through the castle. The battle would be today, sooner or later the Saxons and Odin’s men would start raining down destruction on Camelot and there was little he could do to stop it. He didn’t want to watch Camelot burn. He wanted to remember her like this.

Arthur looked down at Merlin, at least this way he wouldn’t fight. After his thoughts last night, he realised couldn’t trust himself around Merlin. Especially when his life might be in danger. He couldn’t sit and hope that maybe, maybe they could be together if Merlin wasn’t living. He couldn’t think that. He wouldn’t let himself become _that_ kind of ghost.

He set the items down on Merlin’s bedside table, next to the candle that was still burning. One thing was the potion Merlin needed to see him. The other was the Horn of Cathbad that Merlin needed to send him back.

He was doing the right thing, he knew it because it came with that infuriating feeling one gets when told to do the right thing. He knew it was right. Merlin needed to move on. He couldn’t keep on like this.

He’d put all his mail and armour back on, his cloak as well. He sat down on the chair Gaius had set out for him and waited for Merlin to wake up. He half wished that Merlin had heard everything he’d said the day before, when he’d said everything that he wouldn’t have dared say if Merlin hadn’t been so out of it. But he couldn’t say it all again. It was done now. He’d made his choice and telling Merlin about his feelings all over again would just make things harder. And he knew, he wouldn’t be able to let go if Merlin gave him something to hold onto, some assurance that they would be fine. No, it had to be this way.

Arthur leaned forward; risking waking Merlin just so that he could look, really look at him. It was strange but since he’d started returning Merlin’s feelings, he’d tried his best to not look at him all that closely. Just in case.

“That’s creepy, you know,” Merlin said, not opening his eyes.

“You used to do it to me enough,” Arthur said, nervous because he didn’t know how Merlin was seeing him or if he wasn’t and was just joking.

“Ah but I usually had a good reason,” Merlin replied, opening his eyes and dashing any hopes of it being a laugh.

“I have a good reason,” Arthur said, sitting back down. He didn’t want to have this conversation looming over him, not that closely anyway. He needed a bit of distance.

“Yes, I thought you might,” Merlin agreed, a small smile rising on his lips.

“Are you alright?” Arthur asked, not sure what he’d say if Merlin said he wasn’t. He wouldn’t be able to stay.

“Yes, I’m fine. I mean, it hurts but I’m not dead so...I’m not dead, right?” Merlin paused and Arthur pulled a face. Had he known somehow that Arthur had hoped, if only for a second, that he was?

“No, you’re not dead.” Arthur looked away, forcing himself to say what he needed to say. “But that’s a talk we need to have.”

“About me dying?” Merlin asked, his tone light enough that Arthur knew he wasn’t really worried about dying. Either that or that he knew what was coming and he was trying to lighten the mood.

“No, about me dying,” Arthur corrected him, no lightness to his tone whatsoever. “Send me back.”

“What?” Merlin tried to sit up and winced.

“You heard me,” Arthur said, not wanting to say it again.

“No.” Merlin gave up trying to sit and crossed his arms over his chest instead. “I won’t do it.”

“Merlin.”

“No. Whatever you’re doing, it’s about something else. When we talked about it before, you didn’t want to go back, I could tell.” Merlin glared at him defiantly. “So whatever this is really about, let’s talk about that instead.”

“No, we have to talk about this,” Arthur glared back for a second but Merlin didn’t relent. “I’m not the only one who thinks it, am I? Guinevere is right, Gaius is right; you need to move on Merlin. I heard what Gaius said, me staying behind like this is selfish. I can’t cling onto life and I can’t cling onto you either. Let me go.”

“Fine, you heard Gaius but you know what, I heard you.” Merlin paused and Arthur swallowed, he’d not counted on Merlin bringing that up. Talking about Merlin’s feelings he could have handled but talking about his own... “I know, Arthur, alright? If that’s what you’re worried about, that I’ll look at you differently or something... don’t be. If you need time, if you want me to bury my head in the sand and forget what I heard last night then that’s fine, I’ve been doing that for a while now. I had years to come to terms with what I felt; I don’t expect you to do it in one night. But you can do that here, surely?”

“No. It’s not anything to do with that. As you were always saying, stupid feelings mean nothing, not in the long run. We can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t stand it,” Arthur admitted, breaking his own promise to not talk about his feelings. “I can’t not touch you when I want. I can’t wake up in the morning and have to wait for you to be able to hear me. I can’t sit around and wait for you to die. Send me back.” Arthur picked up the horn and held it out to Merlin, who ignored it.

“You don’t deny it then?” he asked, looking surprised. “I thought you’d deny it.”

“What? Oh, no, I suppose not. It doesn’t matter though, haven’t you been listening?” Arthur said, desperate now. He didn’t have many more excuses to give. All that was left was the truth.

“I’ll start listening when you start talking sense,” Merlin said pointedly. “I’m not sending you back just because things are complicated now. In case you didn’t notice, I’ve been doing complicated for years. Within a week of coming here, I met some prat I couldn’t stand and got told he was my destiny. Try that one for complicated. But I didn’t run back to Ealdor. I didn’t leave you alone to face everything you had to face and I know you’re not going to do that to me. So why don’t you put that down, it’s not going to get you anywhere.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, the same tone he used every other time Merlin refused to do as he was told coming out naturally.

“You can’t do that, I’m not your servant anymore remember?” Merlin sat up, bracing himself against the pain. “You can’t make me do this.”

“No, I can’t,” Arthur admitted. Why had he ever thought Merlin would do as he was asked, even when it was for the best. No, he had to make it difficult. “But I can leave anyway. I can just start walking and not stop. At least this way, when I really am needed, you’ll know where to find me.”

“Do that then,” Merlin said, testing his bluff.

“Merlin, don’t.” Arthur took Merlin’s hand, turning it over and placing the horn in his palm, keeping them both between his own hands. “Don’t make me leave. I don’t think I can. Send me back.”

“I’ll only come to you, at Nameton. I’ll make your life - death - a living hell,” Merlin promised but his voice wasn’t as certain as his threat. Arthur could feel him giving in. He squeezed Merlin’s hand and let go of him.

“No, you won’t,” Arthur said, sitting back in the chair. “And you won’t do anything stupid either. If you really did mean everything you said, if you really do love me...” Arthur swallowed, that was the first time he’d said it aloud knowing it would be heard. “You’ll move on.”

“But-” Merlin started but Arthur couldn’t take any more. He was hanging on his last inch of resolve.

“Don’t. Anything you’re planning to say, I know it already. Just do it.” Arthur closed his eyes and waited, he waited to hear the horrible hollowing note that the horn sounded but it never came. When he opened his eyes, he saw nothing.

-x-

Time passed, in its weird way, as it did. But Arthur thought it wasn’t too long before he was pulled back by something. And he didn’t even need to question what that something was. Merlin.

The interim didn’t materialise like it usually did, it wasn’t disconnected and distant. It felt almost real, like he wasn’t on borrowed time in the living world. The first thing he saw was Merlin.

“I thought we had an agreement.”

“We did. This isn’t my doing, I assure you,” Merlin replied, looking around like he was seeing the place anew.

-x-

The battle came, late in the day but it came almost like Leon had predicted, ten thousand men, made up of warriors from Odin’s lands and mixed Saxons. Nobody had come to tell him about the fighting but Merlin heard it, from his bed. There were no guards on his door, he knew that much. They would be busy fighting.

Merlin pushed himself up and out of bed. He’d had enough hours of sitting and staring upwards, pretending he’d done the right thing and that he wasn’t crying every time he thought about it. The pain in his side was nothing compared to what Arthur had left him with. Somehow, even as he put the blasted horn to his lips, he thought Arthur wouldn’t actually leave him.

He placed a hand to his side, over the wound and healed it as much as he was able. It would do. He pulled on a shirt and some breeches, shoving thoughts of Arthur to the back of his mind. He needed a distraction and well, a battle was a pretty good distraction.

The corridors were empty. The throne room doors were barricaded. He could hear the sound of swords ringing coming from beyond the castle walls. He itched to be on the other side of the walls.

-x-

“How long has it been?” Arthur asked, knowing his sense of time did not match up to Merlin’s from the previous time he was here. It could have been years for all he knew. But he had a feeling it hadn’t been.

“A few hours, half a day perhaps,” Merlin said with a shrug.

“Merlin-” Arthur started but Merlin shook his head.

“I’m not here because of you; I’m here because of me.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, not understanding him.

Merlin pulled back the side of his jacket, revealing a lot of blood and a tear in his shirt just under his ribcage. “That was the last thing I felt. I’m guessing it’s the reason for my untimely visit.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, stepping forward, his hands reaching out for Merlin’s chest.

“Don’t, it’s already bad enough, I don’t need you poking at it.” Merlin swatted at Arthur’s hands, batting them away.

“I can’t believe they’d kill an injured man, one in bed at that,” Arthur said, anger rising in his voice.

“I wasn’t exactly in my bed,” Merlin admitted.

“I told you not to do anything stupid,” Arthur said with a sigh.

“It didn’t seem stupid at the time, I’d healed myself and I could handle myself, my reactions were a little slow perhaps but I wanted something to take my mind off you.”

“So, this is my fault?” Arthur asked then he remembered what he’d thought before. “No, it is my fault. I wished it. I didn’t mean to, it just happened, I just thought it.”

“How could it be your fault, you weren’t even there,” Merlin reminded him.

“No, before. When you were only wounded. I thought...gods, I thought if you died then we’d be able to be together and it would be simple. I took it back when I realised what I’d thought but for a second...that’s what I wanted.”

“Well, here you go,” Merlin said, looking down at himself. “You’ve got me now.”

There wasn’t any malice to his words, even though Arthur thought there really should have been. He was joking about it.

“I didn’t actually want you to die,” Arthur said seriously.

“I know,” Merlin said, sobering. “But here I am anyway. There’s no point being miserable about it.”

“Miserable? Merlin, you’re dead, it’s not a weekend hunt in the woods, this is it.”

“This is all I need,” Merlin said, smiling like he was actually pleased about it.

“You don’t mean that,” Arthur said.

“Yes, I do,” Merlin placed a hand lightly on Arthur’s arm, testing. When it stayed on his arm, he matched it with the other hand. “You were right, I know it’s not perfect but being like this, everything is simple.”

“Not perfect? Merlin, we’re _dead_!” Arthur said but having Merlin close had knocked some of the argument from him.

“Yeah, not perfect,” Merlin said again. “But everything else is. What was it you couldn’t live without before? Me not being able to see you and hear you? I can see you just fine, hear you too, no potion needed. Not being able to touch me? Touch me. I’m touching you, there should be no problem. Worrying about me dying... well, that’s not something you need to worry about now, is it?”

Merlin smiled but Arthur didn’t, he couldn’t. He could only feel guilty.

“Look, I heard what you said. I listen to everything you said. And one night you said if our circumstances were different, you could love me. Well, I know that’s not about Gwen anymore, not now she’s marrying Leon and you’ve been fine with that. It’s not because you don’t love me either because I’m not stupid, that’s why you’ve been acting how you were, getting jealous over Percival, acting the way you did when I kissed him. Gods, it was a bad idea but it seemed like a good one at the time. I’d hoped it would actually make you admit your feelings but it did enough. And then you had to go and get all noble on me, didn’t you? I heard everything you said while you thought I was out of it and you didn’t deny it earlier, so don’t try now.”

Merlin took a breath. “Is that it? Did I miss anything? Or are there any more obstacles you’d like to throw in the way. I’ve been having this discussion with myself for years, I assure you, I know them all.”

“I’m sorry.” Arthur shook his head. “For leaving I mean. After what I thought, I...”

Merlin gave him a smile. “You... what?”

“I love you so much, I couldn't bear to see you hurt,” Arthur admitted, finally. The words felt so familiar, like he’d thought them a hundred times but they were only just working their way free now.

“I know how that feels, trust me,” Merlin said. “But that’s life. Or death, as the case may be. Leaving me didn’t stop me getting hurt.”

“Forgive me?” Arthur asked.

It was a simple plea, no danger fuelling it, no desperation behind it. It was in waiting for Merlin’s answer, an answer he was dragging out far too long, that Arthur remembered where he’d heard those words before. Once from Merlin’s mouth, dozens of times in his dreams after. Was he still waiting for that kiss to land?

Arthur took a breath, knowing it wasn’t Merlin who was holding it back this time. It never had been. “Merlin?”

“Of course I’ll forgive you, clotplole.”

Arthur pushed forward, kissing Merlin like Merlin had kissed him that day, when the Old Religion was threatening to break them apart and Merlin was all that was stopping it. And Merlin kissed him back like Arthur had, with no hesitance, just moving with him, instinctively.

Merlin broke the kiss, his hand rising to the wound in his chest. “Does yours hurt still?” he asked, sounding further away than he really was.

“No,” Arthur said, answering Merlin but Merlin flickered and it was that first time all over again. “No!”

He tried to cling onto him, like he had before but Merlin slipped through his fingers. There wasn’t enough connecting them. He’d thought they were safe. Now he was alone again, fading back into nothing fast.

“Merlin!”

-x-

Merlin felt his chest burning. He sucked in a breath, fast and hard. When he opened his eyes, he was on a table, one of the tables usually kept for banquets. That and placing the injured and dying on when they’d run out of beds.

Everything hurt for a second; a screaming pain like his skin was burning itself back together, cauterizing itself and then it calmed again. His heart was pounding, out of its usual beat and his lungs were taking in air like he’d nearly drowned.

He sat up, looking about him. He expected the place to be swarming, with the bloodied and bruised and those tending them but the room was deserted. All the people, led like he had been, were dead.

Merlin pulled his shirt up, remembering the searing pain of the metal sword that had been unceremoniously shoved through him but there wasn’t a mark on him, aside from the tacky dried blood stuck to his skin. He dropped his shirt and pushed himself off the table, not knowing what to think.

He’d been with Arthur, he was sure he was dead. It had sure felt like it when the blade had gone up and under his ribs, into his heart. Even Arthur had to agree, he was certainly dead. So what was he doing back here?

The battle was over; the citadel was silent in the dead of night. He could only hope they’d won and the castle was silent out of respect for those lost in the battle not because it had been abandoned. He made it all the way to Gaius’ chambers before he knew for sure. He found Gaius sleeping and breathed a sigh of relief. That answered the question of the kingdom but what about him?

“Gaius,” he whispered, trying to wake him as gently as he could. “Gaius.”

After some prodding and a less of a whisper, Gaius finally woke up. When he did, his eyes widened almost comically and he scrambled upright, pulling the covers up with him.

“Good, you can see me. I’m not a ghost then,” Merlin said, mostly to himself. “Gaius, what’s going on?”

“Merlin,” Gaius said, stopping and staring at him for a moment before answering. “Merlin, you’re dead. Or you were. You’re supposed to be.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought,” Merlin said, straightening up and subconsciously running a hand under his ribs. “You’re sure? I wasn’t just knocked out or something?”

“No, Merlin, you’d been dead a while when Sir Percival carried you in,” Gaius confirmed and Merlin pulled a face.

“Gods, poor Percival. It’s always him, isn’t it, that has to go through things like that.” Merlin turned and started pacing. “Does everyone know?”

“Yes, a list of those fallen was posted in the courtyard, like it always is. You were on it. Merlin, this was days ago.”

“Really?” Merlin glanced back and then resumed his pacing. “I take it we won, the battle I mean.”

“Yes, after a fashion.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow and Gaius continued. “Annis had barely agreed to the treaty when war fell upon us, as you probably knew. She wasn’t as prepared for war as we would have hoped and it took a day longer than expected for her armies to get here. But the citadel was never taken and she did get here. The Saxons were wiped out, for now at least. Odin’s men either fled or surrendered. Odin and Guinevere were in talks for hours before they reached a peace but a peace was reached. Camelot is safe again.” Gaius looked Merlin up and down. “Our main loss was you.”

Merlin stopped and held Gaius’ gaze for a second, not sure how to respond to that. He decided to ask the obvious, pacing again. “What was the plan? Were you going to bury me or were the numbers too high for that?”

“You were to be interred in the crypts, alongside-”

“With Arthur’s empty tomb? Really?” Merlin wondered whose idea that was. “Is that why I was waiting then?”

“Yes, the stone has to be brought in,” Gaius said, catching him by the elbows when his pacing brought him within reach. “Merlin, why aren’t you dead?”

“I have no idea,” Merlin admitted. “All I know was that I was for a while and now I’m not.”

“What will you do?” Gaius asked, bringing to light something Merlin hadn’t even thought of yet. “How are you going to explain this?”

“I don’t know yet, I need to think about it for a while,” Merlin nodded and took the steps up to the room he used to call his own. He got all the way through the door before he remembered that it wasn’t his anymore. “May I? I don’t think I can go back through the castle again, not without being seen.”

It was a lie, really, Merlin just wanted to be back in his room, back somewhere he could think clearly and somewhere where Gaius was within calling distance should he get stuck on an idea.

“Of course,” Gaius agreed and Merlin nodded his thanks, closing the door behind him.

He honestly didn’t know what he was going to do. He could, perhaps, explain his resurrection as a magical thing but this wasn’t the first magical resurrection Camelot had known and that was something clearly understood as dark magic. It had taken them too long to convince the people that magic wasn’t all dark and that there were those, like him, who chose to only use it for good, to risk him being accused of being a dark sorcerer, of being like Morgana. But he couldn’t exactly stay dead either.

And before he figured out what he was going to do, he had to figure out what he’d done. How he’d defied death and why. But there was no-one to ask.

The night passed and Merlin slept a little, half hoping and half worried that if he did, he might end up back with Arthur somehow. That would certainly have been easier. He needed to know if this was going to be something that would always happen. He didn’t think he could bear knowing that he’d never get back to Arthur.

He opened the door, standing against the frame, a difficult decision made that he knew Gaius wouldn’t approve of. But there was no other way to be sure.

He approached the shelves while Gaius watched curiously. “Have you come to any conclusions?”

“Yes,” Merlin answered, selecting two bottles that were at the back for a good reason. “I need to find out what I did and if I can do it again.”

“What do you mean do it again?” Gaius asked coming up behind Merlin. “What are you doing with hemlock and aconite?”

“Which is quicker?” Merlin asked, side stepping the question even thought there was no way Gaius wouldn’t see straight through it.

“Merlin,” Gaius said, reaching for the bottles.

“It’ll be fine. If it works, I’ll be back before you know it and if it doesn’t...well, I’ll be no worse off than I was this time yesterday,” Merlin reasoned, ducking out of his reach and taking the bottles over to the table.

“Merlin, think this though, you were obviously brought back for a reason, don’t waste it,” Gaius implored him but Merlin had convinced himself his plan was foolproof.

“If that’s true, it’ll bring me back again,” Merlin said, staring at the bottles, somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered aconite being the stronger of the two poisons but hemlock was just as deadly, he knew from memory. But then, Morgana hadn’t died from it, there had been time enough for her to be saved. “I should go with this one, right?”

“No, the hemlock. It may take a few minutes longer but it’ll be a gentler few minutes than with the aconite,” Gaius said with a sigh. “I’m not condoning what you’re doing but if there’s no stopping you, I’d rather you didn’t suffer unnecessarily.”

Merlin looked up at him with a small smile. “I know what I’m doing. I think.”

-x-

Arthur had barely settled into nothingness when he was pulled back again. He didn’t know what to hope for, that Merlin was back he was certain of but was he alive or dead? Which would be worse?

It didn’t take him long to see Merlin was dead. Or at least, he was for the moment.

“What happened?” he asked, hating himself a little for being more concerned about what had pulled him away before than what had sent him back now.

“I’m not sure. That’s what this is for,” Merlin said, gesturing at himself. “I’m not staying, I don’t think I can.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, noticing Merlin’s clean shirt and jacket.

“I don’t think I can die,” Merlin explained. “I think there’s something keeping me there, like I have to wait for something. Probably you.”

“So we can’t-” Arthur cut himself off, refusing to say it aloud. “Never?”

“I don’t know, Gaius told me the wound I suffered before was fatal, I’d been dead for days and then I just woke up. He’s going to keep an eye on me this time, see if it’s the same.”

“What do you mean _this time_? What did you do?” Arthur asked, his tone almost dangerous. It was the closest he could get to feeling something real here, like he was.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it, you don’t want to know,” Merlin shivered, remembering how it felt, like an invisible hand was choking him, denying him a breath until he stopped trying to draw one. “Suffice to say I won’t be doing it again in a hurry.”

“Merlin...”

“Look, I’ve done it now, there’s no point arguing about whether it was a bad idea or not,” Merlin looked around nervously, like he was wary of being pulled back too soon again. “It doesn’t matter anyway, whatever happens, we _can_ be together. If I stay here, I’ll be here with you – don’t look at me like that, it’s not the end of the world - but if not- and as it’s here that we’re stuck, I don’t think I can stay but- I can’t die. You don’t have to worry about watching me die; you don’t have to worry about anything. It might not be perfect, nothing ever is, but it’s got to be better than you being on your own here forever and me being there forever, hasn’t it?

This time when Merlin flickered, Arthur didn’t fight it.

“Think about it,” Merlin said as he faded. “I’ll come back as soon as I can. Not like this, obviously, I meant-”

Arthur sighed, watching him go, knowing he’d stick to his word and come back. He knew Merlin was just trying to make the best of his bad situation but this way, Merlin would never move on.

-x-

Merlin woke the same way as he had before, gasping for breath like he’d been forced back into a dead body. A fair assessment of what had happened. Gaius, true to his word, was sat beside him, a book balanced in his lap, his eyebrow raised ready to give him a lecture.

“Well, that’s that then. I can’t die,” Merlin said breathlessly, still feeling the hand at his throat but it was lessening. “How long?

“Three days, less than last time but then, there was less damage to heal,” Gaius observed.

“Tell that to my chest, I feel like a horse fell on me,” Merlin rubbed his chest and the pain eased.

“Yes, well, it was an exceptionally bad idea,” Gaius said, the look of disapproval returning. “But at least it wasn’t a fatally bad idea.”

“I got my answer though,” Merlin said, deeming it worth it. “I needed to know for sure. Arthur raised a good point when he left – he’s gone by the way – I can’t stay knowing I can’t die. I can’t watch everyone else move on and get old and die. I barely have anyone left as it is; only you and Gwen, Percival and Leon and they think I’m already gone. I can’t watch Camelot fall, if she ever does. I need to go.”

Gaius nodded, understanding. “Where will you go?”

“First, Nameton. I don’t know from there,” Merlin looked around, wishing his things were all here. “Can you sneak my stuff out of my room? Just the supplies in my cabinet, you’ll know which ones and a few books, the one you gave me especially. And the horn of Cathbad, if it’s still there. Oh and my clothes. And some food, I guess.”

Gaius nodded, smiling, wearing that look that said he didn’t know how Merlin had managed to look after Arthur all those years but not himself. Merlin had to admit, he had a point.

“Thank you,” Merlin said, lying back down on the bed, rubbing his chest.

-x-

He had to wait for night to fall before he could try to leave. Even with a reduced guard and a quiet population, a dead man leaving in broad daylight would have been noticed. Even in darkness, he had a clock pulled tightly around him while he waited in the courtyard as Gaius fetched him a horse.

The cold night air was biting but he didn’t want Gaius to come any faster. He used the time to turn in a slow circle, taking in the citadel that had been his home for the last decade. He looked up at the balcony, remembering Uther bringing his hand down on an execution the very first time he’d stood on these stones. He should have run in the other direction there and then but he hadn’t, he’d stayed. He would be sad to leave, knowing that he would probably never return but he knew where he was going; he’d have the heart of Camelot with him. If he could get him to agree to go with him.

Gaius finally came with the horse, a bay gelding, one of a dozen. Merlin doubted in the post battle confusion, he’d be missed.

“Tell Gwen she’ll be a remarkable queen,” Merlin said, even though he was sure messages supposedly from beyond the grave would be impossible. “And tell Percival... well; just make sure he doesn’t end up alone. Even if you have to take him to the tavern yourself.”

“I shall,” Gaius said, handing Merlin the reins. “Make sure that you don’t end up alone either, I know what you’re like. You wouldn’t last five minutes, immortality or no.”

“I won’t,” Merlin smiled sadly, letting himself be pulled into a hug. He could feel tears in his eyes, threatening to fall but he wouldn’t let himself change his mind. Saying goodbye now was better than the alternative. “Oh and tell them to go ahead with the tomb; it’s oddly fitting that my empty grave will be next to his. Just can’t escape destiny, can I?”

Gaius smiled at that and Merlin did too, it was almost like he was just going on another one of his secret journeys to save Arthur’s life. He decided to pretend that was exactly what was happening as he pulled back and turned away, mounting the horse and only turning back the once before he kicked him into a fast trot.

-x-

After four days hard riding, Merlin turned the horse loose, enchanting it so that it would find its way home. The Stones were bathed in light, just like they had been before and Merlin felt those same nerves he’d felt the first time, the ones that tingled just under his skin. He walked to their centre, the horn ready in his hand. It had been the longest four days of his life.

Arthur was waiting for him on the other side of the light; it was almost as if he hadn’t moved since Merlin had left him. He wasn’t as solid or as close as he’d been before but then Merlin didn’t have a place here while he was alive.

“Merlin,” Arthur started, his tone hesitant and Merlin knew what was coming. He’d given Arthur too much time to think about it and all the things that could go badly.

“Whatever you’re going to say, I know but it doesn’t matter, I’ll find a way around it, trust me,” Merlin promised, well practiced at getting around Arthur’s excuses.

“It’ll go back to how it was before,” Arthur said. “Everything I said before still stands.”

“Not everything, I can’t die so no matter what you choose, I can’t move on. I’m stuck like this, just like you are,” Merlin shrugged. “Nobody is waiting for the other to die.”

“I’m already dead, Merlin,” Arthur reminded him.

“Yes but you know what I mean. We’re not exactly going anywhere, are we?”

“But it won’t be the same as being alive. I can’t be with you properly.”

“You were fine with being a ghost before, what changed?”

“I don’t know. The idea that I could be with you. If you died, we’d be in the same situation. Up until then, I’d convinced myself nothing could come of it. Having even the slightest hope...”

“Scared you?” Merlin asked, finishing his thought for him. “Trust me, I know. Take your two weeks or so, turn it into years. And you’re dead, you can stay here. What am I going to do if you stay? I can’t go back to Camelot; I’ve been dead more than a week. All I have is you so I’m really hoping you’ll come with me.”

“What about this destiny problem, I’m meant to come back, aren’t I? I can’t do that if I’m half back already.”

“Destiny has gotten us this far, hasn’t it? It took us from that very first moment when I called you _friend_ without knowing how right I’d be. It even brought me back from the dead and managed to kill you even though you had me looking after you. I think it’ll find its way.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Arthur asked.

“Honestly?” Merlin asked with a sigh. “I don’t care. I’m sorry but I don’t. I stopped caring the moment I couldn’t save you. I won’t let it take you away again. Not if I can help it.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” Arthur asked but he took a step forward, towards Merlin and towards the light. He’d made the first crack, now he just had to wait for the rest of the wall to crumble down.

“When have we ever let that stop us?” Merlin asked with a smile. “Of all the mad ideas we’ve had over the years, this is probably one of the more harmless ones. At least we know it won’t get us killed.”

“Merlin, I’m being serious,” Arthur said, frowning.

“We won’t know until we try,” Merlin held out his hand and took a step back, not into the light, not yet.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, still hesitant but closing the gap between them.

“Arthur,” Merlin said back to him, knowing this was the moment. He’d either come or he wouldn’t. “Who would have thought all those years ago when your father gifted me the job of being your manservant that it would work? If I can get over you being a royal ass, I can get over you being an ethereal prat.”

Arthur smiled and finally took his hand. “And perhaps one day I’ll get over you being a complete idiot.”

“No, that’d be asking too much of the world,” Merlin stepped back, pulling Arthur into the light with him. He could have looked back in the conventional way but this way, he wasn’t bringing Arthur’s spirit back so much as leaving with it. The light dimmed again and grass and sky and stone returned to his vision. And Arthur along with it. “After all, it’s going to have to put up with us for a lot longer.”

-x-FIN-x-

**Author's Note:**

> As of 01/01/18, I'm opting to disable comments. [More information here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13077201).


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